


just for now

by laurenjauregui



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, F/F, Physical Disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 11:25:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 77,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17058920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenjauregui/pseuds/laurenjauregui
Summary: Camila never expected that some girl spilling coffee all over her could possibly turn out to be a good thing.(Camren. College AU.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this got way out of hand but enjoy!!!

**23/09/16**

The words on the page don’t seem to sink in as Camila looks at them. It’s like her mind is all over the place; nothing seems to sink in today. She’s tired, and she just wants to get back to her bed, snuggle up under her covers and sleep the evening away.

She sighs, trying again, highlighting a few phrases that seem like they could be important. First _real_ week back at college, and she’s already going crazy; it’s like her academic mind had died when she finished her freshman year. She looks up to the front of the lecture hall, face sinking into a frown as the professor switches from one PowerPoint slide to another, giving the class absolutely no time to take any notes.

She rolls her eyes, and she looks back to her handout to highlight a few other nonsensical phrases that appear like they’re of some importance, when the professor easily dismisses them. She grins for the first time that day, stuffs the handout into her backpack and darts out of the classroom.

She sprints out into the corridor, and as if her day couldn’t be any worse, runs straight into someone and feels searing hot liquid poured down her front.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” A raspy voice quickly apologises, and Camila looks up to snap at the person, but meets the most beautiful green eyes she’s ever seen and stops in her tracks, staring at the woman like some kind of mute idiot. “I totally didn’t see you coming, I didn’t realise- are you a freshman? Do you have a class to get to? I’m so sorry.”

“I- um…” any angry insults Camila had concocted fall out of her head, and for a second, she forgets how much her torso is burning, but she quickly grabs her t-shirt and holds it away from her skin. “It’s okay.”

“I’m so, so sorry,” the green eyed goddess says again, before she puts her half empty coffee cup on the windowsill and rips a scrap of paper from her notebook. She scrawls something down and then hands it to Camila, “I really have to run, I have a class, but that’s my number. Text me, I’ll get you a replacement shirt or something.”

Before Camila can say anything, the woman heads up a staircase nearby, completely forgetting the coffee she’d left both down Camila’s shirt and on the windowsill. Camila, still standing there looking stupid, stares down at the number in neat scrawl on the scrap of paper in her hand, and finally snaps out of her mental pause. She whirls around, but sees the girl pushing open a door to the lecture theatre at the top of the stairs, and she turns and looks at the abandoned coffee before smiling to herself and heading out of the building.

She’s still a little awestruck, the beautiful green eyed girl’s image already fading in her mind, when she runs into somebody else. Thankfully, it’s the person she was supposed to meet.

“What happened to you?” Dinah asks her, raising her eyebrows as she scans over the coffee stains on Camila’s shirt. “Did you drop coffee on yourself?”

Camila holds out the scrap of paper with the green eyed girl’s number on it. “I ran into a girl. She gave me her number to buy me a replacement shirt. She was pretty.”

Dinah snorts. “So pretty your brain isn’t working properly yet?”

“Mhm,” Camila distantly hums, thinking of the girl’s eyes again, “do you think if I texted right now, it’d be weird?”

“That hot, huh?” Dinah laughs, and Camila nods, eyes wide. “Wow. Well, maybe you could message her with like, one of your bad jokes or something.”

 _That_ snaps Camila out of her daydreams. “A bad joke? First, my jokes are _amazing_ , and second, that wouldn’t work on this girl. She’s… definitely out of my league.”

“Maybe when you were fifteen,” Dinah comments, giving Camila a look over, “but you glowed the fuck up, Walz. Even if you’re still that little insecure fifteen year old in your head, you’re a hot as fuck nineteen year old on the outside. This girl is going to see that. Or maybe she thinks _you’re_ out of _her_ league.”

“ _Or_ she gave me her number because she felt bad that she spilled her coffee all over me?” Camila counters, and Dinah rolls her eyes. “Should I even text her? I mean, this stain will come out if I wash it straight away, right?”

Dinah shrugs. “I don’t know, I make Ally do all my laundry.”

Camila snorts. “Typical. I’m surprised she hasn’t kicked you out yet.”

“It’s her senior year, maybe she’s feeling generous,” Dinah reasons, throwing an arm around Camila’s shoulder as she leads her across campus. “I _was_ going to ask if you wanted to get lunch, but I think we should just go home with you looking like that.”

Camila laughs. “Thanks. Great day so far. Didn’t understand my lecture, got coffee thrown all over me, somehow forgot how to speak around the pretty girl who threw said coffee on me, and now I don’t even get _food.”_

Dinah smirks. “We can order Domino’s back at the house.”

Camila grins, quickening her pace. “Okay, yeah, let’s go home.”

“Thought that’d cheer you up,” Dinah laughs, linking her arm through Camila’s as they pass the little campus café they usually grab a sandwich and a drink from. Camila wonders for a moment if that’s where green eyes got her drink from earlier.

 _Why are you even thinking about that?_ Camila quickly scolds herself. _The only reason she gave you her number was because she spilled her coffee on you. Not because she’s interested or something._

She tucks the scrap of paper with green eyes’ number on into her back pocket, and pulls her house keys out of the other, arm in arm with her best friend.

She’d met Dinah easily – they were Twitter mutuals, and one of them had messaged the other back when they were sixteen – and they’d clicked. Camila would go as far to say that Dinah is her soulmate, even though they have their differences; Dinah is a social butterfly and Camila… well, Camila is kind of a mess around new people; even when she’d met Dinah in person for the first time, she’d been awkward. It’s because Dinah was so accommodating when they met, and the technological boundary, that she and Camila had gotten close so fast. When they’d found out they’d gotten into the same college, they immediately signed up to be roommates.

The second person she’d met on campus was their friend Ally; a junior at the time, but now a senior, and one of the three girls Camila shares a house off campus with. They’d met by complete accident – Camila and Dinah were lost, looking for a classroom, and Ally seemed to be the friendliest person in their vicinity. She’d shown them to their classroom, and given them her number, for if they ever needed any more help.

Camila thanks Dinah for most of her friends – Dinah was the one to take the initiative, dragging Camila out to socials when she was ready to hide under the bed from all the scary new peers. Dinah had been the one to introduce her to Normani, the other girl they share a house with, and the final person Camila considers her _inner circle_. She has a couple of acquaintances on campus, who she sits with in classes, but the three girls she lives with are her best friends.

She unlocks the front door of their house, and immediately runs upstairs to grab a comfortable sweater, slipping out of the sticky, coffee stained shirt. She carries it downstairs, and tosses it in the laundry with some other stuff she’d been meaning to do, before she pulls the scrap of paper with the girl’s number on it out of her back pocket.

Carefully typing it into her phone, saving the contact as _green eyes_ , she opens up a new message conversation, staring at the empty box. She tries typing out a few things.

**_Hey there! It’s Camila. You know, coffee girl!_ **

No. Not right.

**_whats up! im the girl you spilled coffee on earlier_ **

Definitely not.

**_are your pants from outer space??? cuz ur ass is out of this world!!_ **

_Way to sound like a creeper,_ Camila scolds herself, frowning down at the message. She sighs, erasing the cheesy pickup line, and tries to go for something more _normal_.

**_(1:36PM): hey, i’m the girl who walked into you earlier. you told me to text you?_ **

She sends it before she can think about it, and tucks her phone away in her pocket. She rips up the scrap of paper with green eyes’ number on it and puts it in the trash, and heads into the lounge to join Dinah.

“Did you order a pizza?” She asks, flopping down on the couch. “I’m starving.”

“Yep,” Dinah replies, “did you text your clumsy friend?”

“Okay, it was _my fault_ , I was rushing to meet you and…” Camila trails off, before she fixes her best friend with a grin and says, “actually, it’s _your_ fault! Because you’re impatient.”

Dinah rolls her eyes, and opens her mouth, probably to send a snarky comment Camila’s way, but the older girl’s phone pings, and she grins. “That her?”

Camila shrugs, pulling her phone out of her pocket, and trying to wipe the smile off her face.

**_green eyes (1:41PM): Hi! I’m so sorry, I really wasn’t looking where I was going. Just in a rush to get to class._ **

**_green eyes (1:41PM): Do you have any free time soon? I feel bad that I ruined your shirt._ **

**_Coffee girl (1:42PM): you really don’t have to buy me a new shirt_ **

**_green eyes (1:43PM): I feel bad. At least let me pay for your laundry or something?_ **

**_Coffee girl (1:43PM): really it’s no big deal_ **

**_green eyes (1:44PM): It is to me. Are you still on campus?_ **

**_Coffee girl (1:44PM): no my 12pm was my only class today_ **

**_green eyes (1:44PM): What about Monday?_ **

**_Coffee girl (1:45PM): im in lectures 10-11, 11-12, 2-3:30._ **

**_green eyes (1:45PM): I’m free from 12:30 if you’ll let me buy you a drink as an apology. Definitely not coffee though. Maybe some hot cocoa. :)_ **

**_green eyes (1:46PM): I’ll meet you at the campus Starbucks at 12:30 on Monday if you’re down._ **

**_Coffee girl (1:47PM): sure but you really don’t have to do this_ **

**_green eyes (1:47PM): I want to. :)_ **

“ _Well_?” Dinah questions her, having watched Camila silently text for five minutes. “What’s going on? Have you got a hot date with her? Clumsy and Clumsier. You guys would make a great duo.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “She wants to buy me a drink as an apology. That’s all.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll realise you’re soulmates,” Dinah teases her, “and you’ll fly off into the sunset on a rainbow.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “She’s probably not even gay. She’s just buying me a drink because she feels bad. Who says she’ll even stick around after she buys me it?”

Ignoring Dinah’s next words about how it’s _destiny_ , Camila tries not to get her hopes up. The girl was gorgeous, and Camila hasn’t stopped thinking about those bright green eyes since she’d seen them.

She changes the subject easily. “So, you ordered the pizza. Did you order any sides?”

“It’s _lunch_ , not dinner,” Dinah rolls her eyes, before grinning, “of course I did.”

“Chicken wings?” Camila asks, and Dinah nods. “Perfect. Now all we need is a good show to binge, but you keep watching everything with Mani.”

“Hey, I saved _Stranger Things_ to watch with you,” Dinah folds her arms across her chest and passes the TV remote to her. “You pick something.”

Just as the thought of her green eyed coffee assailant slips from her mind, Camila’s phone pings, and she pulls it out, reading the message on the screen with a smile.

**_green eyes (1:56PM): It just occurred to me that I never got your name. Am I going to have to call you Coffee Girl when we meet?_ **

**_Coffee girl (1:56PM): my name’s camila_ **

**_green eyes (1:57PM): Pleased to make your acquaintance, Camila. I’m Lauren. :)_ **

**_Camila (1:57PM): you too lauren :)_ **

-

**26/09/16**

Camila is ridiculously nervous.

Her friends keep mocking her – mostly Dinah – telling her that she’s going to meet the love of her life, teasing her about how she’s going on a date, and it’s not making her anxiety any better. As she walks to the coffee shop at 12:25, her heart is pounding in her chest, and she feels like she’s walking to her own execution.

Once she arrives, she settles herself on a bench, money jingling in her pocket, because what if Lauren decides she’s not coming, and Camila has to stand here awkwardly for half an hour until she accepts that and has to buy something so she doesn’t feel weird.

She anxiously checks her watch, annoyed when only a minute has passed. _Lauren’s class ends at 12:30. That’s what she told you. Relax._

She guesses she’s just worried that she’ll freeze up again, like she’d done before. Lauren was kind of _insanely beautiful_ , and Camila can never talk to pretty girls. She always freezes and can’t figure out how to make her brain work. She _wishes_ she could be smooth, but the only time she’s ever managed that is when she’s already comfortable with the girl she’s flirting with, and by that point, they usually view her as the dorky, little sister type.

She plays on her phone, messaging Dinah, freaking out about meeting those beautiful green eyes again, when that same raspy voice from Friday surrounds her.

“Hey, Camila!”

 _My name has never sounded more beautiful_ , Camila thinks, but pushes that thought from her head and plasters on a smile. “Lauren. Hi.”

“I’m sorry I’m a little late,” Lauren apologises, and Camila doesn’t even think about it, because this girl could probably stab her and she’d accept her apology easily. “My class ran a little late and I had to get here, and as you can tell, I’ve yet to perfect the art of teleportation.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Camila responds, and when Lauren smiles at her, she practically melts. “Um, yeah, let’s… go get a drink.”

Lauren nods, and follows her inside the coffee shop, joining the line at the back. “So, um… are you a freshman?”

“No, sophomore,” Camila answers, “I haven’t really… settled back in yet.”

Lauren hums. “I get that. I haven’t either… it’s probably why I wasn’t looking, I’ve kind of been all over the place these last few weeks, figuring out the stuff I needed to bring up here from Miami, and there’s been some relationship drama and I don’t know why I’m telling you that so I’m going to shut up now.”

“It’s okay, I- I know what it’s like to ramble a lot,” Camila awkwardly replies, “but you know you’re totally forgiven, right? I’m the one that was running to get out of the building before all the classes started to let out.”

“I still feel bad,” Lauren answers, “you had to waste your time washing your shirt and – _oh, there’s a free table,_ quick, go get it. I’ll bring the drinks.”

Camila blinks in surprise, following Lauren’s gaze and bolting to the two person table across the room. She sits down, smiling apologetically at the large frat guy who’d been heading for it, but honestly, she doesn’t really care. All she’s thinking about is how Lauren wants to sit down with her. She’s not just going to buy her a drink to go and leave.

She shrugs off her jacket and watches as the older girl heads to the front of the queue, ordering with ease, and five minutes later, she brings two hot cocoas over to the table, setting one down in front of Camila.

“I got to the counter and realised I didn’t ask what you wanted,” Lauren laughs, shrugging her bomber jacket off. “So I hope you like cocoa.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Camila asks, and Lauren just smiles in response, already taking a sip of hers. “So, um… what do you study?”

“Law and politics,” Lauren answers, and Camila almost blurts out about how she has a double major too, because she couldn’t decide between literature and music. She reins that in, not wanting to come on too strong. “I’m in my junior year, so I’ve only got this year and next year until I graduate, which is kind of crazy. What about you? You mentioned you were a sophomore?”

“Oh, yeah,” Camila nods, “I’ve got a double major too. Literature and music.”

“Music?” Lauren questions, and for a second, Camila wonders if she’s one of those people who will think it’s a stupid idea to study music, that it’s not credible enough. “Cool. Do you play any instruments?”

At the lack of _are you sure that’s worthwhile_ , Camila is a little surprised, but she answers Lauren’s question. “Um, yeah. Guitar for… longer than I can remember, and I taught myself how to play piano recently.”

“Hey, that’s cool, I play piano too,” Lauren grins at her, “I picked it up after…”

When the older girl trails off, a sad look in her eyes, Camila frowns, but decides not to push it. She barely knows Lauren; they’re only meeting right now out of courtesy, and she doubts Lauren would tell her anything personal.

“So, politics, huh?” Camila says after a rather awkward silence. “Planning on being the next president?”

Lauren chuckles lightly. “I mean, that’s the dream, but I doubt it. I’m too left wing to ever be elected here. They’d think I’m a communist, because a lot of people look at _socialist_ and think it’s a synonym.”

Camila just shrugs. “I don’t really know much about politics. As long as I’m not going to get arrested because I’m gay, a woman and an immigrant, I’m cool. Is it not boring, though? To learn about what a bunch of musty old white dudes have done while sitting in the White House hundreds of years ago?”

“It’s not all like that.” Lauren laughs, “last year we had a module all about Stalin’s rise to power in Russia, and how he basically got rid of his opposition by pitting them all against one another and having all of these fake alliances. That was interesting.”

Camila bites down on her bottom lip, and takes a sip of her cocoa before saying, “you know you don’t have to sit here and talk to me, right? You said you’d buy me a drink to make up for things, and you did, even though you didn’t even have to do _that_.”

Lauren raises an eyebrow. “Is that your way of asking me to leave? Because I didn’t get my drink to go.”

Camila shakes her head quickly. “No, it’s just… you’re really nice. It’s kind of refreshing.”

Lauren laughs to herself. “So… do you want me to stay, or what?”

“I don’t mind,” Camila says, because she figures blurting out _please never leave_ is a little too forward. “Thank you for the cocoa, by the way. It’s really nice.”

Lauren smiles. “I figured buying you coffee would be the definition of _too soon_ , and I didn’t know if you liked tea. Or what _kind_ you liked.”

“Well, thank you. It’s really sweet of you,” Camila says, “and totally unnecessary. My shirt was completely fine, so… no harm done.”

Lauren just shrugs. “Well, this alleviates my guilt. I’m kind of clumsy sometimes. I never used to be, but…”

“Well, I practically _fell_ out of the womb,” Camila snorts, “I’m probably the clumsiest person you’ll ever meet. I’m like baby Bambi trying to walk. I’m just gonna end up falling on my face.”

“That’s cute though,” Lauren comments, and Camila’s stomach flips, because the beautiful green eyed girl had just called her _cute._ “A lot of people find clumsiness endearing.”

“I guess I’ve yet to meet one of those people,” Camila shrugs, and for a moment, she wonders if Lauren was flirting, but quickly pushes it from her mind. Of course not. When she was rambling before, she’d said she was having _relationship drama_.

Lauren takes another sip of her hot chocolate. “How close are you living to campus? I remember my sophomore year, and the shock it was like, living off campus in a house compared to living on campus and being able to wake up five minutes before a lecture.”

“It’s not that far. Like, a ten-minute walk if you go fast, but fifteen at a slower pace,” Camila shrugs, “I think I’m just lucky I have my friend Ally. She got us organised really quickly so we got a decent location.”

Lauren smiles. “Yeah, unlucky for me, I didn’t have a friend who was that organised. My best friend Lucy was supposed to look for houses like, first thing in January of freshman year, but ended up putting it off for so long that we got a house that needed a ten-minute _bus_ ride to campus. Otherwise it was like a forty-minute walk and I’m definitely not emotionally prepared for that at seven in the morning.”

Camila laughs. “I think I would’ve unfriended her right there.”

“Fortunately for her, we’ve been friends since kindergarten, so I’m rather attached at this point,” Lauren shrugs, “Keana slapped her though. _That_ was satisfying to watch.”

“I’m glad you got your indirect revenge,” Camila laughs, “are your friends in the same classes as you?”

“I have a couple with Lucy, and one with Keana, but none with Vero; she’s our other housemate. And Lucy’s girlfriend.” Lauren replies. “We’re all majoring in different things, so we don’t share a lot of classes. It’s probably good, because I’d end up killing them if I was with them literally 24/7. I go to my classes for a _break._ ”

“I get that.” Camila answers, picking up her rather ignored hot chocolate and taking a large gulp. “I live with my three best friends, and while Ally’s more mature because she’s a senior, sometimes Dinah and Normani drive me crazy.”

Lauren looks up in surprise. “Did you just say Normani?”

Camila frowns. “Uh, yeah? She’s one of my roommates.”

Lauren nods, looking at her with intrigue. “Normani _Hamilton?”_

“Yeah,” Camila nods, “you know her?”

“We were in the same elective class in freshman year. And the same dorms, but she wasn’t my roommate, I had a single. We still go out clubbing occasionally,” Lauren tells her, before she grins and adds, “hey, maybe we’ve met before and we didn’t even realise it.”

Camila snorts. “I doubt it. I’ve been to the club maybe three times in my entire life. And only one of those times was with Mani; an inner circle thing, so just the roommates.”

“Oh,” Lauren deflates a little, but her smile still comes back full force, “well, it’s still cool. Small world, huh?”

“Yeah,” Camila agrees, making a mental note to ask Normani everything she knows about Lauren. “That’s cool.”

Lauren’s phone beeps, and she finishes off her drink and pulls it out of her pocket. She reads a text, before tucking the device back into her pocket and sending Camila an apologetic smile. “I’m going to have to head off. I completely forgot I told Lucy I’d help her study for a test before our next class.”

“That’s okay,” Camila replies, finishing her own drink as Lauren starts to pull her jacket back on. “Thank you again for the drink.”

“It was the least I could do,” Lauren flashes her a smile. “Have a good rest of your day, Camila. Nice meeting you.”

As Lauren heads out of the busy coffee shop, Camila smiles to herself, wondering where this could go.

-

**10/10/16**

Turns out, it goes nowhere.

It’s been two weeks, and Camila hasn’t had so much as a butt dial from the other girl. It’s depressing, because she thought they’d had a nice time getting drinks, and for some weird reason, she couldn’t seem to get Lauren out of her head.

Naturally, when she gets home, she knocks on Normani’s bedroom door, hammering aggressively so she knows she means _business._

“Oh my god, what do you want?” Normani rolls her eyes at her when her door swings open. “I’m trying to study here.”

“I didn’t tell you about this a few weeks ago, but I’m confused and I need answers,” Camila announces, getting herself comfortable on Normani’s bed. “Two weeks ago, I met a girl called Lauren for a drink. She said she knows you. Is that true?”

“The only Lauren I know is Lauren Jauregui,” Normani says, shrugging, “is that who you’re talking about?”

“Dark hair, green eyes, looks super intimidating but was actually so sweet?” Camila describes, and Normani nods in confirmation. “Then yes. That’s who I’m talking about. I know it’s dumb, because we only met for a drink because she felt bad about spilling her coffee on me, but I thought we had a good time. I thought maybe she’d text me again.”

Normani smirks at her. “Oh, Mila. Someone’s got a crush.”

“What? No, of course not,” Camila shakes her head quickly, “I just figure it’d be a good idea to expand my friendship circle.”

Normani snorts like she doesn’t believe her. “Alright. What exactly do you want to know?”

“I don’t know, if I’m weird or if I fucked up or if there’s something wrong with me?” Camila lists, shrugging. “And stuff that might offend her or whatever. Maybe I said something stupid.”

“While I don’t doubt you say stupid stuff sometimes, you’d never say _offensive_ stupid stuff,” Normani points out, and while Camila agrees with her, maybe she’d done something unintentionally. “Lauren and I aren’t that close or anything, but she’s sweet and definitely not easily offended. Maybe she’s just busy. I haven’t heard from her since we went clubbing last weekend.”

“You went clubbing with her?” Camila asks, sitting forwards excitedly. “Did she say anything about spilling coffee on anyone?”

Normani raises her eyebrows. “No, she didn’t. And you could’ve just asked if she mentioned you.”

Camila blushes, ignoring the way Normani is looking at her like she’s got it all figured out. She _doesn’t_ have a crush. Obviously, Lauren is incredibly attractive, but when it comes down to it, looks aren’t important, and Camila needs to really _know_ a person before she develops a crush. She’s spoken to Lauren twice.

“If I was thinking of texting her… what do you think I should say?” Camila questions, knowing for a fact that if she even considered it, she’d chicken out. “You know, if I wanted to hang out or something.”

Normani watches her with that annoying accusatory smirk, and Camila feels like congratulating her on Dinah’s behalf for how _embarrassed_ she feels right now. “I don’t know, make a joke about how you’re a huge klutz or something.”

Camila scowls, grabbing one of Normani’s pillows and throwing it at her friend. “You’re the worst.”

Normani sends her a mock pout. “Aw, you know you don’t mean that.”

Camila groans. “Shut up before I punch you.”

“Girl, you know you couldn’t take me in a fight,” Normani laughs, “besides, you don’t want to annoy me if I have the power to get Lauren here.”

“ _Here_?” Camila repeats, forgetting the teasing for a moment. “As in, at the house?”

“Yeah,” Normani smiles and shrugs. “Maybe I can invite her over for pregaming before we go out one night.”

“Can I come?” Camila says, and cutting off Normani’s _that’s kind of the point_ , she adds, “like, to the club.”

Normani raises her eyebrows. “You hate the club.”

“Yeah, but… but Lauren likes it, so… it’d be a good…” Camila trails off, before embarrassingly adding, “…bonding experience.”

Normani grins. “And you say you don’t have a crush.”

Before Camila can defend herself, Dinah pokes her head through the door and says, “Walz has a crush? This is huge! Why didn’t you tell me? Best friend foul!”

As Dinah sends her a scowl and joins her on Normani’s bed, Camila sputters out, “I don’t have a crush! Way to go, Mani.”

“I need to see a picture,” Dinah says, “I need pictures and social media accounts so I can stalk her and figure out if she’s worthy of you.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “Damn, you want her social security number too? Besides, I don’t have a picture, _or_ social media accounts, so-”

“I do!” Normani cuts in, typing something in on her phone and holding it out to Dinah. “That’s her Instagram.”

Dinah grabs the phone before Camila can swipe it and throw it out of the window. “Damn, she’s cute, Walz. Have you spoken to her, or do you just sit across the room drooling?”

Camila lets out a long sigh. “She’s the girl who spilled coffee on me.”

Dinah’s eyes widen with the realisation, and she grins, “You didn’t tell me she was _this_ hot.”

“I could barely function after meeting her,” Camila points out, starting at her best friend. “What were you expecting?”

“You can barely function around most people,” Dinah dismisses her, before she looks up at Normani. “You know this girl?”

“Yeah,” Normani nods, “and I’m thinking we should set up a little… get-together.”

“No, _no way_ ,” Camila quickly sits up, shaking her head, “no, you guys aren’t meddling, you’re _not_.”

Normani snorts. “You changed your mind quickly. Not five minutes ago you were practically _begging_ to come clubbing with us.”

“That was before Dinah _blabbermouth_ was involved.” Camila fixes her best friend with an accusatory glare. “You won’t even _try_ to be subtle. And it’s not like I even have a crush anyway, and she’s probably straight-”

“She’s bisexual,” Normani interrupts her, “and as far as I know, she’s single. But we’re not that close, so I could be wrong.”

 _Please don’t be wrong_ , Camila thinks, but quickly reminds herself that she _doesn’t have a crush._ “Well, whatever, I still don’t like her like that, so it doesn’t matter. But are you serious about planning something?”

Normani shrugs. “Yeah. Why not?”

It’s a little ominous for Camila, and she especially hates the way Dinah and Normani exchange a smirk like they’re two evil villains plotting their world domination, but for the moment, she tries to push it from her mind and focus on how much of a crush she _doesn’t_ have on Lauren Jauregui.

-

**14/10/16**

Camila hums to herself, pulling the hood of her cow onesie over her hair. She knows she should probably wash it, but it’s a Friday night, and as usual, her only plans are with her one true love; Netflix.

She hums happily as she enters the kitchen to the smell of freshly baked cookies, grabbing one from the cooling rack and hoping Ally won’t notice. She’s ready to sneak back to her room when the kitchen door swings open unexpectedly and hits her in the face, knocking her back so she lands on the kitchen floor on her ass.

She rolls her eyes and goes to tell Dinah she’s a bitch, but the words die in her throat, because Lauren Jauregui is stood there, staring down at her like she’s seen a ghost.

Lauren is the first to compose herself; Camila, on the other hand, is busy staring at the other girl; at college, she generally wore cute sweaters and jeans, but she’s standing there in a long, sweeping party dress that flows down over her feet and accentuates her every curve. Her makeup is impeccable, and her hair looks so soft and flowy, and it’s then that Camila realises she’s literally wearing a _cow onesie._

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Lauren jokes, holding out a hand to help her up. Camila stares at it, mortified. “I’m really sorry, Camila. Are you okay?”

“I- yeah,” Camila mumbles, still on the floor like an idiot. She properly registers Lauren’s hand and takes it cautiously, letting the older girl help her up. “Hi. I don’t… normally hang out in my kitchen stealing cookies on a Friday night.”

“I was a little shocked when I saw you,” Lauren laughs, “I forgot you mentioned you were one of Mani’s roommates. I would ask if you were coming out tonight, but…”

“No, I totally am,” Camila blurts out without thinking, “I just… got up from a nap. Long day at college, you know?”

(In reality, Camila had one class, but in her defence, it was a 9AM and she’d barely gotten any sleep last night.)

“I get it,” Lauren smiles at her, “I mean, not today, I’m free on Fridays, but my Wednesdays are _hell_.”

Camila rocks on her heels, feeling awkward. “So, um… it’s nice to… see you again.”

“You too,” Lauren answers, heading over to the fridge and taking a can of Coke, sending Camila a sheepish smile, “Normani said I could have one for a mixer. Anyway, uh, I was actually thinking about texting you, but I didn’t think you’d exactly… want to hang out with the girl who threw coffee all over you. And then hit you with a door in your own home.”

“No, I totally would!” Camila blurts out, a little too enthusiastically, “I mean, um… it’s no big deal, you know? I’m not… hurt or anything.”

Lauren smiles, but it’s a little different to the other ones. “Well… are you joining us in the lounge? Or…”

“Um, I think I’ll change first,” Camila mumbles, still a little mortified about how she’s in a _cow onesie_. “And by _us_ , you mean…”

“Normani, me, my friend Lucy, and your other two roommates.” Lauren says, looking towards the lounge. “Your friend Dinah is… quite the character.”

Camila cringes. “Oh _god_ , what has she done?”

“Nothing, she’s just… really something,” Lauren laughs to herself. “Anyway, I guess I’ll see you once you’re ready?”

Camila nods, biting down on her bottom lip. “Yeah. See you.”

Once Lauren heads back into the lounge, Camila runs up the stairs and shuts herself in her bedroom, sending angry texts to her group chat with the girls, yelling at Dinah and Normani for not telling her that Lauren was here and at their shitty excuse that they thought she was sleeping, and thanking Ally for baking some damn good cookies.

Then, she grabs a pair of fresh underwear and clothes she can wear after a quick shower, and heads out onto the landing.

“I hit her with a fucking _door_ , Lucy.”

Camila pauses at the sound of the voice, and peers over the banister to see Lauren, talking with some other girl, who she assumes is Lucy.

“Real smooth, Lo,” Lucy laughs, “she’s really going to want to fuck you after that.”

Camila blushes, and she tries to swallow the knot in her throat. They’re talking about her. They have to be, unless Lauren always goes around hitting girls with doors.

“I don’t want- _no_ ,” Lauren splutters, shaking her head, “well, I mean… _no_! Lucy, don’t be- I just think she’s cute, okay?”

“Then tell her,” Lucy reasons, and Camila wants to shout _yeah, tell me_ , “I mean, you’re fucking hot, Lo. She probably knows it.”

“But what if… what if she’s weird about…” Lauren trails off and sighs, “I just don’t want to risk anything.”

Lucy scoffs. “If she’s weird about that then she doesn’t deserve you, but not everyone is going to be like that jackass from before.”

Lauren sighs. “I can’t tell her. If she… if she approaches _me_ , then… then yeah, but-”

“Lo,” Lucy cuts her off, “you’ve been through hell and back and you deserve to be happy. I know you don’t like letting people get close but you could miss out on the love of your life.”

“Sometimes I wonder if things would’ve been easier if we hadn’t broken up,” Lauren grumbles, “then I wouldn’t _have to_ worry about letting someone in.”

Lucy laughs. “You know we’re better as friends.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lauren rolls her eyes, before she takes her friend’s hand and squeezes it. “Thank you for talking to me about this. I really needed it.”

“No problem,” Lucy answers, tugging Lauren back towards the lounge door, “now, let’s go do some shots.”

Camila stares after them from the top of the stairs, slumping against the bathroom door. Lauren thinks she’s cute? She _had_ to be talking about Camila, right? Her mind is reeling; there’s no way that Lauren could have been talking about anybody else, unless she happened to hit someone else with a door.

 _But why didn’t she message you?_ Camila asks herself. _She spilled coffee on you, bought you a drink in apology, and that was that._

She sighs, and heads into the bathroom, stripping off and getting in the shower. Showers are always great places to think. _I’m definitely not brave enough to ask her out_ , Camila thinks as she quickly rubs shampoo into her hair. _There’s always a chance she wasn’t talking about me._

She takes probably the fastest shower of her life, thinking about Lauren, and throws on fresh pyjamas before she runs to her room and searches through her closet for a dress that shows off her best _ass_ ets. If Lauren really was talking about her, then Camila will know.

She dries her hair and puts it in a quick side-braid, deciding to spend more time on her makeup, before she checks herself over in the mirror and heads downstairs. She sucks in a deep breath before she opens the door to the lounge, flashing her friends a smile and glancing over at Lauren.

“A little better than a cow onesie, huh?”

Lauren blinks in surprise, like she hadn’t expected the words, but puts on a smile, “I don’t know, I liked the Ca _moo_ la look.”

Camila blushes, wishing she had some smooth comeback, and sits down in the only available spot on the couch; right next to Lauren. The girl on Lauren’s right flashes her a smile. “Hi, I’m Lucy. I’m roommates with Lauren.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Camila smiles, “I bet it’s some sort of danger zone, living with Lauren.”

Lauren pouts. “Hey! I’m not that bad. You’ve just had bad experiences. Wrong place at the wrong time.”

Lucy fixes Lauren with a look, but before Camila can decipher it, announces, “one time she hit me with her car.”

“She _didn’t_ ,” Camila looks at Lauren with wide eyes, and the older girl looks more than a little sheepish as she nods curtly. “You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t come out tonight.”

“She’s exaggerating!” Lauren splutters, scowling at her friend. “I didn’t _run her over_ , I just bumped into her because I wasn’t used to driving yet. It’s not like she was hurt. I’ll have you know I’m a _good_ driver.”

Camila snorts. “You hit someone with a car.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “That was _one_ time.”

“Well, you two are hitting it off nicely for a pair of virtual strangers.” Dinah sends Camila a knowing smirk. “Care to explain how you know each other?”

Camila cringes, and Lauren just chuckles lightly. “We, uh, met a couple weeks ago when we had a bit of an accident. I spilled my coffee on her.”

Camila laughs. “But we’re past that little incident.”

“And then I hit her with a door about an hour ago,” Lauren mumbles, blushing a little. “In my defence, I didn’t know she was behind it.”

“I never knew you had a clumsy streak, Lo,” Normani comments, even though Camila had told her about the whole thing, “That’s funny.”

Lauren grumbles. “Not for me.”

Lauren turns to Lucy and mumbles something about getting her another shot, and Camila stands up, nodding towards the bottle. “I’ll get it. I want one too.”

She thinks she’ll probably need it to get through this night, but at the same time, she doesn’t want to get _drunk_. She can’t show herself up in front of Lauren, because Lauren could potentially like her, and she doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that.

Apparently, Lauren doesn’t have the same concern.

By the time they get to the club, also known as Camila’s personal hell, she’s giggly and tipsy, and heads straight to the bar with Lucy, buying a round of shots for everyone. When she hands Camila hers, she sends her the most adorable grin and murmurs, “I didn’t spill!”

“Yeah,” Camila smiles reassuringly, “you didn’t.”

Lauren easily knocks back her drink and sways a little, before she cackles and looks over at Lucy, announcing, “I nearly fell over! I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Don’t go trying to do it,” Lucy laughs, but the carefree smile dissolves into a more concerned expression when Lauren grabs Normani and pulls her onto the dancefloor. “Well, she’s already fucked.”

Camila looks over at her, “I’m not going to drink anything else, so feel free to go crazy. I don’t mind being the designated driver.”

Lucy levels her with a look. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Camila smiles, “go nuts.”

Lucy looks down at the shot Lauren had given her before she left and shrugs, “Alright then. Just… uh, watch out for Lauren, okay?”

“Sure,” Camila smiles reassuringly. “I will.”

Lucy nods, and takes the shot, and Camila gives her own over as well. Then, she stands back and watches her friends have fun. She finds a seat in a booth and keeps all of her things close to her, already regretting coming along. No matter how hot Lauren is, it doesn’t take away from the fact that she hates clubbing. It would maybe be okay if she was drunk, but she’s not, and she doesn’t plan on being drunk around probably the hottest girl she’s ever seen and completely embarrassing herself.

She’s watching as Lauren drunkenly dances with Normani, before throwing her arms around Lucy and sending her a big smile. Camila wonders if she knows how cute she is.

The pounding music switches to a slower song, and Camila sees Lauren pout. The older girl turns, and they lock eyes, and she smiles, pushing Lucy away and walking over to the table. She sits down, still smiling a little aggressively, and says, “hi!”

“Hey, Lauren,” Camila answers, “don’t you want to dance?”

“Are you asking me? Because if you are, I will, but I don’t like this song,” Lauren drums on the table with her fingers, but quickly cringes. “That’s sticky. Will you dance with me?”

Camila chuckles. “I mean, I might step on your toes, but you _did_ hit me with a door, so…”

Lauren lets out a loud, frustrated groan. “I’m sorry I keep doing stupid things. I just... get really awkward and clumsy around girls I think are pretty. It’s not as bad with boys, because they’re dumb, so they’re easy to flirt with. But girls are smart and pretty and they smell nice, and _you_ smell really nice.”

Camila doesn’t entirely know how to take that, but she blushes and avoids eye contact. “You think I smell nice?”

“Yeah!” Lauren smiles enthusiastically, but it quickly drops from her face and she announces, “Not that I sniff you like a creeper or something. I’m not a creeper. I’m cool.”

Camila smiles a little. “I know you’re not a creeper. We’re… we’re friends, right?”

“Yes!” Lauren grins and grabs her hand. “That’s why you should dance with me. To… to solidify the friendship. I was going to text you the other week, actually. But I didn’t, because I thought you didn’t like me.”

Camila frowns. “Why did you think that? Did I come off that way?”

“I mean, you’d be pretty weird to like the girl who dropped her coffee all over you,” Lauren points out, running a hand through her hair. “But I wanted to ask you to go- to hang out. With me. But I chickened out.”

“If I’m being honest, I kind of figured _you_ didn’t like _me_.” Camila shrugs. “Because you didn’t text me. Not that you had any obligation to or anything, I just thought we had a nice time, and I was way too socially awkward to text first, so… yeah. I don’t even know why I’m talking to you about all of this, because you’re drunk.”

Lauren hums. “You’re not drunk. You should get drunk and then we can be drunk together.”

“No, I promised I’d drive,” Camila says, mumbling after, “and Lucy asked me to look after you, so…”

Instead of finding it sweet that her friend cared, Lauren twirls around on her seat and fixes an oblivious Lucy with a glare. “I don’t need to be looked after.”

Camila frowns. “I think it’s nice that she asked me. You know, because it shows she cares about you. I’d want my friends to look out for me when I’m drunk.”

Lauren directs the glare at her. “I don’t need that. I can do it myself. I can do just as much as she can.”

Camila holds her hands up in defence, her heart racing with anxiety, wondering what she’s done wrong. “I think she just doesn’t want you to be taken advantage of while you don’t have any of your inhibitions.”

Lauren just scowls. “She treats me like a _kid_ sometimes. Like I can’t look after myself. But I can. Just because I don’t-”

Lauren’s clouded gaze looks her over, and she seems to think better of saying whatever she was about to say. She sighs, rests her elbows on the table, and mumbles about it being sticky again, but other than that, stays silent.

“I’m sorry,” Camila mumbles, looking at the older girl. Lauren doesn’t respond. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t know… I don’t really know what I said, to be honest.”

“I’m like Beyoncé,” Lauren blurts out, and Camila can’t help but laugh at the random outburst, despite the anxiety in her chest. “I am an independent woman and I don’t need anyone to look after me.”

Wanting to make Lauren feel better, Camila shifts out of her side of the booth. She holds out her hand to Lauren. “Come on. Let’s dance.”

Lauren frowns. “Really? You want to dance with me?”

“Yeah,” Camila chuckles, because that’s kind of obvious, and she steps forward to grab Lauren’s hand and pull her up, cringing in embarrassment when she realises she’s just stepped on the other girl’s left shoe. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Lauren frowns. “About what? Did you change your mind? Are we not dancing anymore?”

“I just stood on your toes,” Camila says, but after a few moments of consideration, realises she kind of deserved that, “but you _did_ spill coffee on me _and_ hit me with a door, so I guess we’re even now.”

Lauren looks down at her feet and frowns. “You’re not stepping on them. Weirdo.”

Camila’s stomach drops at the word, but Lauren looks at her with a smile, so she assumes it was a term of endearment. “Well, _yeah_ , when I realised, obviously I’m not going to _keep_ crushing your foot, am I?”

“I don’t think you stood on me,” Lauren comments, standing up and swaying a little, “but I will check for bruises later and then send you my medical bill.”

Camila laughs, steadying her, “Okay, drunkie. You do that.”

“Yes,” Lauren looks over to the DJ and hums, “do you think I could request _Bop to the Top_ from _High School Musical_?”

Camila grins. “I’d love to see you try.”

“I will!” Lauren makes to head over to the DJ, but Camila grabs her, holding her back. “What? Don’t you want to listen to it? It’s such a bop that it literally has _bop_ in the title.”

Camila laughs. “I haven’t watched _High School Musical_ in forever. The last time was when I watched it with my little sister. She actually didn’t seem so impressed.”

“Your little sister has a bad taste in movies,” Lauren announces, “I bet she likes that new Disney shit, huh? So bad.”

Camila chuckles lightly. “You’re funny. If you want… we could… I don’t know, hang out and watch the _High School Musical_ trilogy. If you even remember any of this.”

Lauren smiles, and when the music switches to another slow song, she takes Camila’s hands and swings them happily. “I’d like that. I just hope you’re not weird.”

Camila laughs. “I mean, obviously I am, since I’m still talking to you after all of the accidents.”

Lauren hums, but shakes her head. “Not about that. About other things.”

Camila frowns. “Other things?”

“Yes,” Lauren nods, doing some kind of stumbled pirouette to the music. “Anyway, I’m excited to watch _High School Musical_ with you.”

“Me too,” Camila grins, “I’ll text you, because I doubt you’ll remember this.”

Lauren snorts. “I’ve only been blackout drunk once. I’m _fine_. I’ll remember our plans.”

“Good,” Camila answers, laughing a little as Lauren does another pirouette again. “You like dancing, huh?”

“Yes, but I’m not as good as I used to be, but I don’t really do it anymore, so that’s probably why,” Lauren shrugs, putting her hands on Camila’s shoulders and swaying, “are you good at it?”

“No,” Camila laughs, “I mean, if someone gave me choreography I could probably follow it, but in situations like this I just dance like a mom chaperoning a school dance.”

Lauren hums. “I think that’s cute.”

“Well,” Camila blushes, “I think… um… nothing.”

She _wanted_ to retort with _I think you’re cute_ , but she chickened out. Lauren just sends her a docile smile, and Camila looks back over to their still vacant table, but the club is starting to get a little busier, and she knows it won’t be empty for long. Also, she kind of wants to get away before she embarrasses herself.

“I’m going to go sit down,” Camila answers. “Thanks for the dance, Lauren.”

Lauren frowns, watching her go, and Camila sits back down, wondering how long she’s going to be stuck here, and how long it’s going to take for her to stop being so fucking awkward.

-

**28/10/16**

“Happy Friday?”

Camila frowns, and Lauren wonders if she’d taken her by surprise. Her mind starts reeling; maybe Camila hadn’t texted for a reason, maybe Lauren had freaked her out while she was drunk. “Um, hey?”

“Hi,” Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, “so, um, I knew you were in this class because this is where we met. I was wondering if you still… wanted to watch, um- movies with me.”

“You mean _High School Musical_?” Camila asks, raising her eyebrows. Lauren feels the heat on her cheeks and knows she’s blushing. “Yeah. I want that. I just wasn’t sure if the offer was legitimate or not.”

“Yeah, well… drunk Lauren says all the things sober Lauren normally just… doesn’t.” Lauren barks out an awkward chuckle and runs a hand through her hair, one of her nervous ticks. “So… that’s a yes? Because I’ve got a lecture next and…”

“That’s a yes,” Camila says, and she looks happy from the offer, so Lauren quickly reassures herself that she’s fine, that they’re _friends._ “I’ll… text you?”

Lauren grins. “I’ll message once I’m sat down in the lecture hall. If you want to hang around we could go back to my place after my class. It’s my last one of the day.”

“Okay,” Camila nods, and relief washes over Lauren like a tidal wave. “I’ll just… go get a drink at the café and meet you there when your class is over.”

“Sounds… sounds good,” Lauren gets out, and flashes a smile, before heading up the stairs to her lecture hall. She tries to play it cool, and nearly trips up a step, hoping to _god_ Camila didn’t see that, but doesn’t look back to check.

Going to the back of the lecture hall, Lauren sits down and gets her laptop out of her backpack, before she lets out an exasperated sigh. She’s being far too obvious; there’s no doubt that Camila _knows_ Lauren likes her, and she hasn’t approached her, so obviously the feeling isn’t mutual.

“Why do I have to be so fucking _awkward_?” Lauren curses aloud to the empty lecture hall, before she slams her head on the desk with a sigh. She thinks back to the guy from a few months ago, the one she’d met at a club just before the semester started. They’d been fooling around, and she’d gone back to his place, but the _second_ she’d taken her jeans off, he’d called it off, saying that he’s just not _into_ her anymore.

Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s good that Camila isn’t interested, because she knows _that_ rejection would hurt her more than this.

She wants to talk to Lucy about it, but she keeps being so protective and it’s starting to drive her crazy. She knows Lucy means well; they’re best friends and they’re always going to look out for each other, but Lauren hates the way Lucy is sometimes so watchful. It’s like living with her mother.

 _(Don’t even get her_ started _on_ that _._ )

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she knows it’s a rejection text. Camila will have seen something or _Normani_ could’ve told her, and she’s just going to tell her she’s not interested, that she’s a great person but it’s just something she can’t get past.

She fishes her phone out of her jacket pocket, and braces herself, before she reads the text on the screen.

**_Camila (12:57PM): i’m prepping for our marathon early_ **

Attached is a screenshot of a YouTube video, Sharpay and Ryan’s _Bop to the Top_ , and Lauren has to laugh. She breathes a sigh of relief and sends a quick text back as the lecture hall starts to fill up.

**_green eyes (12:58PM): And you picked the best song from the first movie! Great taste._ **

Lauren goes to put her phone away, smiling to herself, when it buzzes again, signalling another text from Camila.

**_Camila (12:58PM): well a cute girl told me it was her favourite_ **

Lauren’s stomach flutters, and she wants to let out a happy squeal, but she knows it’d attract some weird looks. Instead, she grins, and types out a response.

**_green eyes (12:58PM): Oh yeah? She obviously has an amazing music taste. Give her my praise._ **

**_Camila (12:59PM): hey lauren? lauren wants you to know you have a good music taste_ **

Her heart is full to bursting as she reads the response, and she knows she’s probably reading way into this, because it’s obviously just friendly, platonic flirting, like the kind she does with Keana sometimes, but it still makes her squirm. _God dammit_ , she really likes this girl.

Naturally, her lecture drags, because all she can think about as her professor is droning on is _Camila_ , and how she just wants to fake a bathroom break and meet her early. Her notes are of a lower quality than usual, but she promises herself she’ll watch the lecture back later to make up for it.

Once the class is dismissed, Lauren is first out the door, and she practically sprints to the nearby coffee shop. She stops a little around the corner to catch her breath, then slows her pace, acting like she hadn’t just winded herself to get here.

She pushes open the door to the café and spots Camila, but her heart sinks. She’s with a girl. A very, _very_ pretty girl. Normani had mentioned that Camila was gay; was this her girlfriend?

Lauren considers just turning around and leaving, but she stops herself. They could just be friends, and she’d be kicking herself if she’d overreacted. She sucks in a deep breath to calm herself and walks over to Camila’s table.

“Um, hi,” she awkwardly announces her presence, “sorry if I’m a little late or anything.”

Camila looks up and fixes her with that adorable smile. “No, you’re fine. Anyway, um, Lauren, this is my friend, Ariana. We share a couple of classes and I was just giving her my notes.”

Ariana sends Camila a knowing sort of smirk, and looks up at Lauren. “You’re Lauren? Camila has told me _so_ much about you.”

Lauren feels the way she imagines a puppy feels when it spots its owner; excited, ecstatic, over the fucking _moon_. Camila had _mentioned her_. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm,” Ariana grins, and winces when Camila kicks her under the table. Holding her hands up in defence, she mumbles, “Alright, alright, I’ll stop.”

Camila doesn’t meet Lauren’s gaze, her cheeks bright red. “Um, yes, anyway. Lauren and I- um, we have plans. So I’ll see you in class, Ari.”

Ariana meets Camila’s stern glance with another smirk. “Yeah, see you in class, Mila.”

As Lauren follows Camila out of the café, she smiles. “She seems nice.”

Camila snorts. “She’s not. Anyway, should we make a pit stop at my place? If we’re having a movie marathon, we’ll want to be in pyjamas, right?”

Lauren shrugs, trying to seem indifferent, but she probably looks a little bit like a deer in headlights right now. “I don’t mind. It’s… it’s up to you.”

“Nah, we’ll just head straight to yours,” Camila decides, and Lauren breathes out a sigh of relief. “Lead the way.”

“I have a pair of sweats you can borrow,” Lauren assures her, and takes the next left to get off campus.

Thankfully, after their traumatic experience in sophomore year, Lauren and Keana had taken the initiative in their house hunting for this year, and found a house close to campus. Lauren had sworn she was never going to trust Lucy to do something like that on time ever again.

As if she’s read Lauren’s mind, Camila asks, “Didn’t you say it’s like a forty minute walk?”

“No, that was our house last year,” Lauren explains, and Camila hums in acknowledgement. “This year we started house hunting in January. I’m not sure what I’m going to do next year, because Lucy wants to move in with just Vero, and Keana wants to move in with her boyfriend. I’ll probably see if I can get a studio or something.”

She doesn’t know why she said all of that; she doubts Camila gives a fuck about Lauren’s housing plans. Before the younger girl can comment, she swiftly changes the subject.

“Anyway, I had fun meeting your roommates,” Lauren comments, before realising she was only at Camila’s place because _Normani_ had invited her clubbing. “Well, I mean, just Dinah and Ally, because I already knew Mani.”

Camila nods. “Yeah, you said you were in the same dorm in freshman year, right?”

“Not the same room. I had a single,” Lauren says, and hopes Camila doesn’t ask _why_. “But we were in the same block, and we shared a class, so we just… made friends that way.”

“You’re lucky you got a single,” Camila comments, “not many people get that. I was stuck with Dinah for a whole year, and even though she’s my best friend, there were a couple times where I felt like killing her.”

 _It wasn’t exactly luck_ , Lauren thinks to herself. “I mean, I only met her the one time, but I can imagine what it’s like if you’re trying to study.”

“We both goofed off studying last year,” Camila laughs, “I think we were both so excited about the freedom of college that we goofed off a little too much.”

“Yeah, but you can get away with that in freshman year, if you’re smart enough,” Lauren points out, thinking back to the amount of homework she _didn’t_ do because she was too busy enjoying the newfound freedom that came with being away from her overprotective mother. “It’s sophomore year where you can’t get away with it as much.”

“I think I had the scare factor from my parents, so I did study a decent amount last year. Just not as much as I should’ve,” Camila shrugs, “the whole reason we moved here was for me to get a better life and a better education. I wasn’t about to belittle the sacrifices they made by partying all the time. And I don’t even like partying, anyway.”

Lauren frowns, vaguely remembering Camila saying she was an immigrant. “Moved here?”

“My family immigrated from Cuba,” Camila answers, shrugging like it means nothing, “I don’t really remember it that well. I just remember being told we were going to Disneyland.”

Lauren smiles. “Did you end up going there?”

“Oh, yeah. Disney _world_ , actually, because we moved to Florida, so,” Camila shrugs, “it was more convenient.”

Lauren hears the word _Florida_ , and immediately, her eyes widen. “Your family live in Florida? I’m from Miami. And- and I’m Cuban, too. Only been once, but... yeah.”

Camila flashes a smile. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

 _Liked you. She_ likes _you!_ Lauren’s brain is practically yelling at her, _kiss her! She likes you!_ “I- um, yeah.”

Camila sends her a soft smile, and Lauren bites down on her bottom lip. She knows she’s being obvious, that Camila _knows_ she likes her, but she doesn’t want to make a move, just to be let down because she’s _weirded out_ or something.

Not knowing what to say, Lauren digs in her jeans pocket for her keys, making a right down the nearest street. She cuts up a side street, and Camila frowns at her. “You don’t walk down here in the dark, do you?”

Lauren shakes her head, not wanting Camila to worry, even though she _does_. “No. Just when it’s light. Though, I don’t think a broke college student is a good target for muggers.”

“No, but a pretty twenty year old girl is a good target for _creeps_ ,” Camila points out, and Lauren makes a quick promise to herself to stay away from the side street on dark nights. The second thought that pops into her head is _she thinks I’m pretty._ “Are we close to your house?”

“Yeah,” Lauren nods, and turns another corner, before she heads up the front porch steps of the small student house she shares with her friends. She knows that Keana is supposed to be in, but Lucy and Vero both have classes.

She unlocks the front door, and quickly unlaces her shoes, putting them by the door. Camila kicks hers off and leaves them next to Lauren’s.

Lauren is hoping for a quick getaway up to her bedroom, but Keana calls out from the kitchen. “Lo? That you?”

“Yeah,” She calls back, going to take Camila’s wrist and pull her up the stairs, but Keana walks out of the kitchen and looks at her in surprise. Floundering, Lauren announces, “um, this is Camila. She’s a friend.”

Keana, having heard the name before because Lauren had _idiotically_ told her friends she had a crush, sends a teasing smirk Lauren’s way. “Oh, a friend? I hadn’t realised you decided to expand your friendship group, Lo.”

“Yeah, well…” Lauren just shrugs, slowly taking Camila’s hand and giving her a small tug, nodding towards the stairs, “we’re going to… um, go watch a movie. Later.”

Camila follows her up the stairs, and when Lauren pushes open her bedroom door, she frowns at her. “Don’t you want me to meet your roommates?”

“Trust me, they’re embarrassing.” Lauren says, shutting her bedroom door behind them. She does a quick three-sixty of her bedroom, making sure there’s nothing embarrassing laying around, before she points over at her bed. “If you want to… get yourself comfortable.”

Camila’s gaze snaps away from Lauren’s bookshelf. “Sure.”

“You can read a book if you see something you like,” Lauren comments, opening up a drawer and pulling out two pairs of sweats, tossing one over to the bed. “There’s some sweats. I’m going to go into the bathroom to change.”

“Okay,” Camila nods, and steps forward to browse Lauren’s bookshelf.

Lauren casts one last glance over at her, and ducks out of the room, disappearing into the bathroom. She sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, and runs a hand through her hair.

She quickly unbuttons her jeans, stepping out of them, sighing in annoyance as she reaches down just below her left knee and adjusts the pin lock on her prosthetic leg. She steps into her sweatpants, and pulls her socks up, hoping Camila doesn’t think it’s weird that she’s kept them on.

She feels bad, not being open and proud like she usually is, but it’s so hard around someone she likes. It hurts so much to be rejected for something she can’t help, and it’s happened one too many times for Lauren to be open about it immediately with a potential romantic partner.

Not that she’s going to ask Camila out; sure, they’ve flirted, and she’s shown _some_ interest, but Lauren thinks she’s made it pretty obvious she likes her, and Camila hasn’t said anything. Obviously, she’s not interested in going on a date, and Lauren isn’t going to ask just to get shot down.

Double checking that her sock and sweatpants are covering everything, she stands up, stretches, and heads back into her bedroom, promising herself she’ll do whatever she can to get over Camila.

-

**31/10/16**

“I hate scary movies.”

“You don’t like partying, you don’t like scary movies,” Lauren lists, rolling her eyes, “ _why_ am I spending Halloween with you again?”

Camila just shrugs. “Beats me. Maybe because it’s a Monday and you don’t want to get so drunk you have to miss all your classes tomorrow because of your hangover?”

Lauren hums. “Yeah, probably. But for real, what _do_ you like to do?”

Camila shrugs. “Well, I used to love trick or treating-”

“I am _not_ going trick or treating. I’m not embarrassing myself for chocolate because I don’t even like chocolate.” Lauren announces, and Camila stares at her like she’s insane. “Yes, I know, I don’t like chocolate, I’m crazy.”

“Yeah, you are,” Camila agrees, wondering how the hell someone can dislike _chocolate_ , “anyway, I wasn’t saying we should go trick or treating. We should carve pumpkins.”

Lauren hums. “I’ll carve a pumpkin with you if you watch _Scream_ with me. I promise it’s not really scary.”

“Fine,” Camila reluctantly agrees, “deal. Are you going to sleep over? We don’t have a spare room, so you’d have to stay in with me, but-”

“No, that’s- that’s fine, I can just walk home later,” Lauren excuses, and Camila frowns, not comfortable letting her walk home in the dark. “Or I can get the bus.”

Camila shakes her head. “At least let me call you a cab.”

“Taxis are expensive,” Lauren argues with her, “we’re broke college students. If I can only afford the bus, so can you.”

“Just… stay the night,” Camila asks, and she feels a little pathetic, practically begging this girl to get into her bed. “I don’t feel safe, letting you walk home by yourself, and the bus doesn’t drop you off right outside your house.”

Lauren seems to consider something, but shrugs. “I don’t have any pyjamas with me, so-”

“That’s fine, I have plenty of t-shirts and pyjama shorts you can borrow,” Camila insists, “it’s really not a problem for you to crash here.”

“I’m going home tonight. I told Lucy I’d be there to hold her hair back if needs be.” Lauren says. “I’ll just catch a bus or something. It’s fine.”

“I think the girls are getting a cab to their party tonight,” Camila thinks aloud, “so, I’ll have Ally’s car, and I can ask before they leave if I can borrow it. I’ll take you home.”

“I don’t want to cause you any trouble, Camila,” Lauren says, and Camila shakes her head, squeezing Lauren’s hand. “I can walk home.”

“I’m driving you and that’s that.” Camila puts her foot down, and Lauren sighs, but nods. “I know you don’t like it when people are protective, but it’s just basic safety. I don’t like it when my friends are walking home alone and in the dark.”

“Alright.” Lauren answers, sitting back on the couch. “You owe me _Scream 2_ now.”

Camila laughs. “I think I can do that.”

After a few minutes of silence, Lauren turns to her. “Do you think we’ll get many trick or treaters? Like… isn’t it just college students who live around here?”

Camila shrugs, “I don’t know, but once we carve a pumpkin and put it in the window, maybe people will know we’ve got candy? Anyway, if we don’t get anyone, I can just eat it all, since your weird ass doesn’t like candy.”

“I like Reese’s,” Lauren shrugs, “and Nutella. But nothing else.”

 _“Weird_ ,” Camila teases her. “You’re _weird_ , Jauregui.”

Lauren just smiles to herself. “Yeah, but you like me.”

Camila laughs lightly, and fixes Lauren with an impassive stare. “You have _no_ proof of that.”

“Unfortunately I don’t,” Lauren answers, and smiles a little sadly. Every cell in Camila’s body is screaming _kiss her,_ and she almost leans in, but Lauren stands up and holds out her hand. “Come on. Pumpkin carving time.”

Camila smiles. “Alright. Got any ideas for the design?”

“Usually I think about that _after_ I’ve scooped all the pumpkin guts out.” Lauren shoots back, grinning. “One time I tried to be ambitious and carve _Starry Night_ into a pumpkin, and it went just about as well as you’d imagine.”

Camila sends her a smile. “So, you did it perfectly?”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “No, it was absolutely _tragic_. I ended up just going to the store and getting a new pumpkin. I think the most complex thing I’ve ever attempted was a Pikachu when I was ten, which _also_ went about as well as you’d imagine for a ten year old. I love art, but I think I’ll stick to sketching and painting.”

Camila raises her eyebrows at the new piece of information. “You draw? What kind of stuff?”

“Just… you know, _stuff_. Whatever I want. I like to paint landscapes, and sketch people.” Lauren shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s only a hobby, you know? Like, my creative outlet. I did an art elective in freshman year, but doing it for a grade sucked the fun out of it.”

“I feel that, but at the same time, I like learning more things about it,” Camila points out, referencing the music half of her degree. “The want to know more kind of cancels out the fact that sometimes it’s not fun being forced to do specific things.”

“Maybe we can carve a classic composition onto the pumpkin,” Lauren jokingly suggests, and Camila just laughs. “It probably won’t go very well, because I’m not exactly a pro in pumpkin carving. But you could be.”

“Lauren, we’ve made it pretty clear that you’re the artist here,” Camila laughs, “besides, I kind of suck at reading music. I can do it at a decent enough level, but I tend to write my songs in tablature, it’s just easier.”

Lauren hums. “Alright, let’s think about the design later. We’ve got some pumpkin guts to rip out.”

Camila leads Lauren into the kitchen, and grabs a knife from the drawer. She passes the older girl a marker, “Make the top all jagged and cool.”

Lauren laughs. “Can’t we just cut it open in a circle?”

“No, jagged edges are cooler.” Camila insists, and Lauren laughs, drawing a template for the top with pointy edges. Once she’s done, she carefully pries the knife from Camila’s hand. “Hey, it’s my pumpkin, I want to cut it.”

Lauren eyes her suspiciously. “Dinah might’ve told me how clumsy you are, and I don’t think I should let you handle a knife.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “You’re the one that spilled coffee on me _and_ hit me with a door.”

Lauren sends her an irritated scowl. “The coffee was a joint effort and I’m sorry I don’t have _X-Ray_ vision to see through doors.”

Camila snorts. “The coffee wasn’t a joint effort when you wouldn’t let me apologise and insisted on buying me a drink to make up for something that you didn’t need to make up for.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see you again,” Lauren mumbles, but before Camila can comment on it, changes the subject. “Anyway, my brand of clumsiness isn’t cutting my own fingers off. I can’t afford to do that.”

Lauren laughs to herself, and Camila wonders if she’s missed out on some kind of inside joke. She shakes it off, quickly defending herself. “With your track record, I’d rather not have _you stabbing me_ on our list of accidents.”

“I’m not going to stab you,” Lauren rolls her eyes, poking the knife through one of the lines she’d drawn at the top of the pumpkin. “I might if you try to fight me for it, but purely by accident.”

Camila holds her hand out. “At least let me do the top. You know, since I _am_ one.”

She doesn’t expect Lauren to burst out laughing at her words; half because nobody ever laughs at her jokes, and half because _is it really that hard to believe?_ Lauren cuts another groove into the pumpkin, but pulls the knife out and slides it over to Camila.

“Fine,” Lauren says, “but _only_ because you made me laugh.”

“What? I’m a top,” Camila defends herself, and Lauren just snickers to herself, “oh, shut up, I am. I’d prove it to you, but I’m not sure if you’d be down for that.”

Lauren just hums, watching as Camila picks up the knife and starts to carve the top off the pumpkin. “I think I’ve made it quite clear what I’d be down for.”

 _Yeah, you have_ , Camila thinks, _I’m just too chicken to ask you out._ She knows that if she tried to make the words come out, to ask Lauren on a date, they’d get caught in her throat and she’d look like an idiot _._ “So, um, have you decided what you want to do? For the pumpkin, I mean.”

Some of the light seems to leave Lauren’s eyes, but her smile doesn’t waver. “I mean, there’s nothing that says it has to be _scary_ , right?”

“No,” Camila agrees, “why, what’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking… Spongebob,” Lauren says, “like, Spongebob’s face. That’s probably around our skill level, right? I _would’ve_ suggested a full scale portrait of Sharpay Evans, the _real_ victim of _High School Musical,_ but I don’t think I can cut that into a pumpkin.”

Camila laughs. “Damn, have you got a crush on her or something?”

“I mean, she’s hot, but _no_ ,” Lauren says, “it just annoys me that we’re supposed to root for Troy and Gabriella’s boring asses when that’s not how theatre _works_. You start at the bottom and work your way up to the starring roles, but _no_ , Troy Bolton won’t do that, because _he’s_ Mr Cool Basketball Guy, and _he_ can do whatever he wants. And Gabriella is just irritating. _Sharpay_ has worked her whole life just to have those two waltz in with their boring acoustic covers of all the bops Sharpay and gay Ryan are serving and _steal_ her role.”

Camila stares at her, at _Lauren_ , the girl who walks around wearing a bomber jacket and dark makeup and acts like the most intimidating person on the planet. _That_ girl just went on a rant about _High School Musical_ of all things.

“You did _not_ just say that,” Camila gapes at her, “you act like you’re this badass and yet you’re so passionate about _High School Musical_.”

“Don’t even get me started on the other movies,” Lauren lets out an exasperated sigh. “Sharpay is the real victim, that’s all I’m saying.”

 Camila laughs. “You know, Lauren, you’re really…”

“What?” Lauren looks at her, eyebrows raised, and Camila swears she sees anxiety flash in her eyes. “I’m what?”

“Special,” Camila settles with, sending the other girl a smile as she finally pulls the top off the pumpkin. She skirts around Lauren and pulls open a drawer, grabbing two spoons and holding one out to the older girl. Lauren just watches her, still looking a little anxious. “I meant a good kind of special. You know? You’re just not what I expected.”

Lauren slowly takes a spoon from Camila. “In a good way?”

“In an amazing way,” Camila answers, scooping out a spoonful of pumpkin innards, “can you grab me a bowl?”

“Sure, Camz,” Lauren replies, and Camila feels her stomach do about fifty backflips at the nickname. Noticing her reaction, but obviously not realising what she’d said, Lauren frowns. “What?”

Camila scoops the pumpkin seeds into the bowl. “Nothing. It’s just- you… you called me _Camz.”_

“Oh,” Lauren realises, but plays it off with a casual shrug. “Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

“No, no,” Camila shakes her head, “I like it. Most people call me Mila, so it took me off guard, but it’s nice. I should think of a nickname for you. One that nobody else calls you, I mean.”

Lauren just laughs. “You don’t have to. Besides, I don’t think there _is_ a nickname you could think of that nobody else uses. My friends call me Lo, or Laur, and I don’t think there’s anything else you could really make out of Lauren. Except for Ren, but I don’t like that, so…”

“Wow, way to burst my bubble,” Camila rolls her eyes, and Lauren just chuckles, spooning some pumpkin seeds into the bowl. “I’ll think of something. You know, one thing people hate about me is the fact that I have looks _and_ a brain.”

Lauren snorts. “Egotistical, much?”

“Worth coming off as an asshole if it makes you laugh,” Camila shrugs, and Lauren’s cheeks are tinted with a light blush yet again. “Maybe I should carve _you_ into the pumpkin.”

Lauren’s eyebrows turn up in surprise. “That was vaguely _serial killer_ of you. I really hope you’re not a psycho murderer, because that’s kind of a turn off for me.”

Camila lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “Well, that sucks for me. But I wouldn’t murder _you._ I like you too much.”

Lauren chuckles. “It _is_ Halloween. Perfect night to finally reveal your serial killer ways.”

“And _you_ let me handle a knife,” Camila laughs, “pumpkin carving gone wrong is the perfect cover story.”

“Wow, what happened to liking me too much to kill me?” Lauren raises her eyebrows, scooping out the last bit of pumpkin seeds. She grabs the bowl and takes it over to the trash can, dumping the innards in there. “Guess I should be running for my life right now, huh?”

“I don’t know, I mean…” Camila hums in thought, “there’s rules, right? In _Scream_. How to survive a horror movie.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows. “How do you know that, if you refuse to watch it?”

“Because Dinah made a joke about it one time. Apparently I’m the only one who’d survive, because I’m gay,” Camila laughs, “so I guess I couldn’t kill you, if I _were_ a psycho killer. Which I’m not, by the way.”

“I know, Camz,” Lauren replies, scrolling through her phone for an example of a Spongebob pumpkin. “But I’m not gay. I’m bi. So… I guess if I’m with a guy, then you could go all stabby.”

“Good thing you’re not, then,” Camila answers, but realises that even though she’s been flirting back, she doesn’t actually know if Lauren is 100% single. “You’re not, right? You’re- you’re single? Not that I really… care. But still. Are you?”

Lauren shakes her head. “I’m not with anybody. There is this one girl I’ve got my eye on, though.”

 _She’s talking about me, right?_ Camila thinks. She opens her mouth, the words _go out with me_ on the tip of her tongue. “Do you want to go- um… go figure out a good spot to leave the pumpkin when we’re done?”

Any semblance of anticipation in Lauren’s eyes had died out at the words. “Yeah, sure.”

Lauren leaves the room, and Camila watches after her, smiling a little fondly, but more focused on hating herself for being too much of a chicken to ask the girl out. It’s not like she’s _never_ asked anybody out before; in freshman year, she’d asked Ariana out, but the older girl had declined her offer, because idiotically, Camila had taken the friendly flirting the wrong way, and Ariana turned out to be straight. They’ve still maintained their friendship, but Camila finds it hard to get over that first rejection.

She sees Lauren’s phone, unlocked and on an example of a Spongebob pumpkin, and she picks up the pen and actually does a decent job of copying the design. Lauren comes back into the room and picks up the knife before Camila can, mumbling something about putting the pumpkin on the porch.

“You said you were from Miami, right?”

Camila is surprised as the words tumble from her mouth, but she ignores her awkwardness and pushes through. She looks up at Lauren expectantly, and after a questioning look, Lauren nods.

“Yeah,” she answers, “I’m from Miami.”

“I don’t know if I mentioned this, but I am too,” Camila casually answers, pushing the pumpkin over to Lauren and deciding to make her do the carving. “And, uh, I don’t really like doing the whole airport and plane thing by myself, so… if you’re going back for Thanksgiving, we could… get a flight together? If you want.”

Lauren blinks in surprise, and a light blush starts to glow on her cheeks as she replies, “um, well, my mom likes to book all of my flights in advance, so… I’ve already got my ticket home for Thanksgiving. And Christmas. But I could tell you which flight it is, and you could book the same one?”

“That’s cute,” Camila comments, “and yeah, I’d like that.”

Lauren’s nose crinkles in concentration as she cuts out an eye on the pumpkin, “what’s cute?”

“That your mom books all your flights,” Camila elaborates, “I guess it’s because she probably wants you home more than you want to _be_ home. I can’t really relate to that. I’d commute to college if I could, just because I love being home so much.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to go home,” Lauren answers, shaking her head, cutting the other eye out, “it’s more like… my mom is kind of… overprotective. After being home for a few days it gets kind of suffocating.”

Camila frowns. “Why don’t you tell her that?”

“I tried to,” Lauren replies, carefully carving Spongebob’s teeth out, “and judging by the fact that she’s still ridiculously overprotective, it really didn’t go very well.”

“I’m sorry,” Camila sends her a sympathetic smile, “I don’t really know how to empathise with you, because my mom is kind of like my best friend.”

“It’s not like we don’t get on,” Lauren quickly replies, “we do, she’s just… it’s too much sometimes, you know?”

“I get that,” Camila answers, “um, but yeah, get back to me with your flight information and I’ll book the same one. We can be airplane buddies.”

Lauren stifles a laugh, and it comes out as more of a snort, “airplane buddies?”

“Yeah. Travelling companions.” Camila laughs. “Like the Doctor and Donna Noble.”

Lauren grins. “Why specifically Donna? Why not Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Amy Pond, Clara Oswald, Yasmin Khan…?”

“Because Donna is better than all of them combined,” Camila rolls her eyes like it’s obvious. “Duh. Anyway, I get dibs on Donna. You can be the Doctor. Whichever incarnation you so please.”

“So… I’m a super smart Time Lord?” Lauren questions, grinning. “I think I’ll take that. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Camila grins, watching as Lauren grabs a paper towel to rub the leftover marker off their pumpkin. “Is it done?”

“It’s done,” Lauren answers, smiling a little as she wipes the marker off. “You like it?”

“Yeah,” Camila smiles, “we make a pretty good team, huh?”

Lauren sends her a full frontal _grin_. “Yeah, we do.”

-

**12/11/16**

“You told me to come in my sweats, so… you’re responsible for this mess.”

“That kind of rhymed.” Camila laughs, before she looks Lauren over. In her text, she’d specified that comfy clothes were a must if she wanted to take part in the movie day they’re having with the girls, and Lauren had gone all out, right down to the fluffy lion socks poking out of her sneakers. “You look cute. Come on, I saved you a spot on the couch. The girls are mid-debate about the movies.”

Lauren just smiles, walking over to the stairs and sitting down, unlacing her sneakers. She puts them down by the door and looks at Camila. “I see you’re going with the classic _no pants_ option of comfort.”

Camila hums in reply. “Yeah, I have a nice fluffy blanket for if I get cold. Anyway, you’re like, the first person I’ve ever seen take her shoes off by actually _unlacing_ them. I just kick mine off aggressively and hope they land somewhere reasonable.”

Lauren laughs. “But you still have to unlace them to get your feet back in and wear them.”

“Not mine. I’ve only ever done the laces once and I just kick them off or slip them on,” Camila grins, “some people call it laziness. I call it convenience.”

Lauren just rolls her eyes, but sends her a teasing smile and points at Camila’s skimpy pyjama shorts. “I like those.”

Camila snorts. “Why, because you can see my ass? Perv.”

“ _No_ , you jerk,” Lauren laughs, “they’re _Lion King_ pyjamas. It’s my favourite Disney movie.”

“Oh. _Aw_ ,” Camila’s stomach flips, “okay, that’s significantly cuter. But anyway, come on. If you’re nice, I’ll let you share my blanket.”

“I’m always nice,” Lauren answers, taking her hand and following her into the lounge; even though she and Lauren are a lot closer now, the idea of holding her hand is kind of making Camila’s heart race. “Anyway, we better watch some Disney movies today.”

“I totally agree with that,” Camila grins, flopping down on the couch and patting the spot next to her to indicate to Lauren that she wants her there. Not that she’s exactly being subtle; she hadn’t let go of Lauren’s hand yet. “Anyway, have you guys decided on the first movie?”

“Yeah,” Dinah nods, “We decided we’d watch a sob story first, and _then_ we’ll put on a _kind of_ sad Disney movie, and then just happy and cheesy shit. So, we’re watching _The Fault in Our Stars_. Everyone cool with that?”

Normani and Ally don’t answer; they were already in agreement with Dinah. Camila doesn’t know if she imagines it, but Lauren seems to tense uncomfortably, but shrugs and answers with an impassive, “I don’t care either way. Just as long as we can watch _The Lion King_ later.”

Dinah looks at Camila, who shrugs. “I mean, I’m not really in the mood to cry, but whatever. We can watch what you want.”

As Normani presses _play_ , Camila grabs her blanket from the back of the couch and bundles herself under it. After a few moments of consideration, she shifts and wraps a rather tense Lauren up in it with her.

“Don’t worry, they’re kind of exaggerating,” Camila whispers as the movie starts properly, “I cried at the book, but not the movie. But I promise I won’t make fun of you if you do cry.”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip and shrugs. “I just don’t like the idea of some big Hollywood studio profiting off of cancer.”

Camila frowns. “I never really thought of it that way.”

Lauren’s words make Camila a little uncomfortable throughout the movie, and she’s not really enjoying it as much as her friends are. Ally starts crying first, at the scene in Amsterdam where Augustus tells Hazel his cancer has come back.

“ _So I went in for a PET scan…” he says, “and it lit up like a Christmas tree.”_

Camila is more than a little taken aback when she feels the blanket shift and Lauren stands up, walking out of the room. For a moment, her brain can’t really compute what just happened, but then she smirks, realising that Lauren was probably crying and just didn’t want anyone to see.

After a few moments, Camila stands up, wrapping her blanket around herself for extra protection, and heading out of the room. When Lauren is nowhere to be seen, she notices the silhouette through the glass in the front door and opens it up.

“Are you okay?”

Lauren looks up at her, surprised. “You followed me?”

“Did you not… want anyone to?” Camila asks, stepping backwards, worrying about the boundaries. “I can let you get your alone time if that’s what you need.”

“No. No, I- I like that you came to see if I was okay,” Lauren sends her a soft smile. “I just… couldn’t deal with watching that.”

Camila chuckles. “Yeah, it’s pretty depressing. I figured we should watch something lighter, but the girls all wanted that and you didn’t say anything otherwise, so I just… kept quiet. While I like John Green… I think I’ll stick with _Paper Towns._ ”

Lauren hums. “Book wise, I’d rather have _Looking for Alaska_ , but Cara Delevingne is pretty hot in _Paper Towns_.”

“Not just for that,” Camila laughs, rolling her eyes. “For the message of it all. Quentin falls in love with the _idea_ of Margo, not Margo herself. It’s a reminder that people aren’t what we want them to be, and if you really love them, you don’t want the image you’ve built in your head. You want their truth.”

Lauren looks up at her. “Do you happen to want anyone else’s truth?”

“I mean…” Camila bites down on her bottom lip to supress a smile, “there is this _one_ girl I kind of like. But she acts all mysterious and badass and runs away to cry at sad movies so she doesn’t ruin her façade.”

“Huh,” Lauren wears a soft smile on her face as she leans back against the concrete of the porch. “Interesting.”

Camila hums knowingly and takes the two steps to the front door in one go. She puts her palm against the door handle and says, “see you back inside.”

“I had cancer.”

Camila blinks in surprise, not expecting the words. She whirls around and looks at Lauren, wondering if the words really came out of her mouth. “What?”

“I was sixteen,” Lauren says, not looking up at her or meeting her gaze, “it was osteosarcoma. Took part of my left leg from below the knee.”

“Oh,” The gears in Camila’s mind finally shift into place, and she realises why Lauren had been so reluctant to watch the movie, why she had left the room. “I’m sorry.”

Lauren finally meets her gaze and sends her a small smile. “Better than it taking my life.”

Camila hesitates, but sits down on the step next to Lauren. “How did you find out?”

“I kept getting these weird ankle pains when I was doing sports,” Lauren answers, “I used to be like, the biggest jock, but I never really got back into it. But I was on the softball pitch in the middle of the game and it was like, the worst pain I’d ever felt in my whole life shooting down my calf. I fell on the field and passed out because it hurt so bad and the next thing I really remember was waking up in the hospital and hearing the word _cancer._ ”

Awkwardly, Camila holds out her arms. “Can I give you a hug?”

“Of course,” Lauren smiles, resting her head on Camila’s shoulder and letting the younger girl give her a small squeeze around the waist. “Anyway. Ask any questions you want, and then we’re going to go back in there and watch the depressing movie.”

Camila goes for the obvious. “Do you have a prosthetic?”

Lauren snorts. “No, my leg magically grew back like a starfish. _Yes_ , Camz, I have a prosthetic.”

“Alright, dumb question, I get it,” Camila rolls her eyes, watching as Lauren rolls up the left leg of her sweatpants to reveal part of a prosthetic leg. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Lauren answers, pushing her pants leg down again. “It _did_. The cancer, obviously. And chemo is the worst thing I’ve ever had to deal with. But it was more… scary than anything.”

Camila frowns. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Imagine being sixteen and all of your friends are worried about boys and you just got told you might die.” Lauren points out, and Camila feels a little guilty that _she_ was worrying about petty things like that. Just about girls, not boys. “They tried chemo in an effort to save my leg but in the end… they had to take it before it got worse or spread anywhere. And then there was _more_ chemo afterwards to make sure it was definitely gone.”

“It’s all gone, right?” Camila asks, fear striking when she realises she doesn’t know the answer. “Or… it hasn’t come back or anything right?”

“You’re worried about me?” Lauren sends her a teasing smirk. “Yeah. It’s all gone. I was in remission by seventeen, so it’s been three years, but that doesn’t mean it was all smooth sailing straight after I was ‘better’ again. I was kind of a mess. When you’re sixteen, seventeen… your insecurities are at their peak. I hated myself. Couldn’t bear to look in a mirror because I felt so ugly, and not just because of losing my leg. The chemo made me lose my hair, I lost so much weight I looked like a straight up skeleton, and I honestly kind of wished I _had_ died. The only person who really made me feel better was Lucy. She’s been my best friend through thick and thin, and while everyone else was coddling me, Lucy was telling me to stop being so pathetic and sulky and go and live my life, and that was honestly what I needed.”

Camila snorts a little. “I mean, you kind of had the right to be sulky.”

“I know,” Lauren shrugs, “I liked that she wasn’t afraid of telling me how it is, but at the same time, she helped me feel comfortable with myself again.”

“Was it hard to learn how to walk with it?” Camila asks. “The prosthetic, I mean.”

“Yeah. It was incredibly frustrating,” Lauren chuckles, seemingly remembering something, “but I got the hang of it eventually. I’m surprised you haven’t asked to gawk at where my leg was amputated. Most people ask to look at it and then say how gross it is.”

“I don’t think you’re gross,” Camila says, before she realises how _not smooth_ that was. “I mean, I think you’re beautiful. And I think I’ve made it pretty obvious at this point that I have the biggest crush on you.”

“I mean, I had a feeling, but I figured that…” Lauren trails off, taking her hand and giving it a small squeeze, “the feeling is entirely mutual. That’s why I just told you all of that. That’s why… I gave you my truth. And if you’re not into that, then… that sucks, but I guess it’s just something I have to deal with.”

Camila frowns. “Not into you? I just told you I was.”

“I know that, but,” Lauren cuts herself off with a sigh, “you know when we met, and I was rambling because I was kind of nervous because you’re extremely hot and I’d already fucked up once around you and oh look at that I’m doing it again how fabulous I love being a fucking idiot-”

Camila just smiles. “I think it’s cute that you do that. Besides, it’s not like you were any worse than me; I just couldn’t talk.”

Lauren smiles a little at the memory. “Well, when I was rambling, I mentioned that there were relationship problems, and-”

“Oh, I remember that!” Camila blurts out. “I was so confused about why I was bothered, but then I realised that- that you were talking and I’m going to shut up.”

Lauren squeezes her hand. “ _Well_ , those relationship problems were with this guy I liked. We’d been on a couple of dates, but apparently missing a part of your leg is a dealbreaker to him. And my point is, if that’s not what you’re into, you don’t _have_ to be. But… also, don’t have a creepy amputee fetish, because then I’ll have to block you.”

“That was almost so profound until you said the words _creepy fetish_ ,” Camila laughs, before she looks at Lauren and shrugs, “Honestly, Lo? I don’t care. I mean, I _do_ , because I care about you, and it means a lot to me that you opened up, but I don’t, because it’s not like you’re any different to me. You’re still the girl who goes around pouring coffee all over me and hitting me in the face with doors.”

Lauren lets out a long sigh. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”

“Oh, definitely not,” Camila teases her, “for real, though. I still like you after all of that. You really think _this_ is going to make that stop?”

“No, I don’t think that, because I know you,” Lauren answers, and Camila flashes her a proud smile, “I was just saying that if for some reason it was a dealbreaker, then that’s fine because it’s your preference, you know? It’d definitely suck because I really like you, but I just… want you to be happy.”

“You want me to be happy?” Camila repeats, and Lauren bobs her head in confirmation. “That’s- you are… entirely too sweet.”

Lauren looks down at her lap, smiling to herself. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

“Oh, shut up,” Camila rolls her eyes, “you know, I don’t date _cocky_ people.”

Lauren chuckles at the words. “Wow, nice gay joke.”

Camila grins at her. “I’m gay, which means I’m morally _obligated_ to make gay jokes whenever the opportunity arises. The amount of times I’ve accidentally outed myself because I couldn’t _not_ make a joke is actually ridiculous.”

Lauren looks her over, and Camila can see her thinking, but then she smiles and holds out her hand. “Come on. Let’s go join the girls again.”

Camila beams, taking Lauren’s hand, and following her back inside.

-

**19/11/16**

Camila doesn’t know what to do.

After Lauren had gone home once they’d finished their movie day, she realised that she hadn’t asked Lauren out. They’d just admitted their feelings for one another, but they hadn’t said they were going on a date. They hadn’t decided anything.

Naturally, Camila finds herself hammering on Normani’s bedroom door, and her friend sends her an exasperated look as she lets her in.

“What? I’m trying to pack,” She points out, nodding towards the open suitcase on her bed. “Is it important?”

“Lauren likes me.” Camila says. “And I like her. We told each other. But my dumb ass didn’t ask her out and it’s been a week.”

Normani rolls her eyes. “Then _call_ her and ask her out?”

Camila pauses, trying to think about what she’d say, but she doesn’t want to just take Lauren out for dinner. She wants to do something interesting, but she doesn’t know what kind of interesting thing Lauren can even _do_.

“Did you know about… um, her…”

“Her leg?” Normani asks, and Camila nods. “Yeah. She had a big single room in freshman year for disabled students, and I saw her spare prosthetic. That’s not why you didn’t ask her out, is it?”

“No, of course not,” Camila shakes her head, “I just don’t know what I can take her to do. Can we go swimming or something, once she and I are back in Miami? I don’t just want to cop out and take her for dinner, you know?”

“Well, here’s an idea,” Normani says, ushering her towards her bedroom door. “ _Ask her_. Later, Mila, see you after Thanksgiving!”

As Normani shuts the bedroom door behind her, Camila sighs, and fishes her phone out of her pocket. She heads over to her room and scrolls to Lauren’s contact – she still hasn’t changed it from _green eyes_ – and presses the call button just as she shuts her door.

It rings, and just when Camila thinks she’s not going to pick up, she answers, sounding flustered. “ _Camila?”_

“Um, hey,” Camila stammers, “is this- is it a bad time?”

“ _No, no, not at all, Vero just almost burned the house down trying to cook, but other than that, it’s fine_ ,” Lauren answers, and Camila hears a loud _shut the fuck up, Jauregui_ in the background. “ _Anyway, what’s up_?”

“Well… I realised that- that when we talked last week, at the movie day,” Camila tries to get out, “I never- well, I _forgot_ \- we said we like each other. And I forgot to ask you out. So, um… will you go out with me?”

Lauren laughs. _“Of course I’ll go out with you.”_

“Okay, cool, yes,” Camila replies, the butterflies in her tummy going crazy. “Um, so… can we maybe go swimming once we’re back in Miami? Like, to a waterpark? I’ve been looking for the adrenaline rush of like, waterslides or whatever and- and I don’t just want to cop out and take you to dinner, you know? And I’m kind of trying to get you in a bikini, but that’s besides the point.”

 _“I- um, I can’t really… go swimming. I can’t, like, submerge the prosthetic in water.”_ Lauren awkwardly answers. _“I’m so sorry, I just-”_

“Don’t apologise,” Camila cuts her off, “I want this date to be like, the best date you’ve ever been on. Not the best date you ever _will_ go on, because I’ll always be looking for ways to outdo myself, but still.”

“ _I just really like you, Camila,”_ Lauren blurts out, _“I don’t want anything to mess it up.”_

“How about… a homecooked meal and a night in? I have the house to myself tomorrow since all the girls are going home tonight, so…” Camila hopes this doesn’t sound like she’s trying to get Lauren into bed, because while that would be great, she’s really not. “You could stay over – in like, Mani’s room or something if you’re uncomfortable – and then we’ll go to the airport together the next day.”

After a few moments of silence on the line, Lauren hums. _“Okay. I’ll… I’ve got most of my stuff packed, so I’ll finish off and bring it round tomorrow.”_

“Okay,” Camila answers, smiling to herself, “I’ll… um, see you tomorrow, then?”

 _“Yeah,”_ Lauren replies, “ _I’ll see you tomorrow, Camz. Bye.”_

As Lauren hangs up, Camila’s eyes widen.

“ _Fuck,”_ she realises, “I have no idea how to cook.”

-

**20/11/16**

Camila realises she’s the biggest idiot on the planet.

First, she invites a girl over for a homecooked meal, but has no idea how to cook anything more advanced than scrambled eggs. Second, she doesn’t even tell the girl when to come over, which results in Lauren showing up in the afternoon, just as Dinah is leaving for the airport, and seeing Camila mid-freak out and pacing all over the front room about what the hell she’s going to do for their date.

“Your favourite hottie is here, Mila!” Dinah calls as she drags her suitcase out of the front door and to the cab. “Have fun!”

Camila looks up like a deer in headlights as Lauren walks into the room. “Um, hi.”

Lauren leaves her case by the front door and looks at her, concern shining in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Camila half heartedly replies, “just, um, a little… stressed.”

“Should I have waited until later to come over?” Lauren asks, and Camila shakes her head. “You didn’t tell me a time to come, and I’d packed all my stuff, and- well, honestly, I kind of couldn’t wait. But if you want me to go, I can.”

“It’s not that,” Camila says, and Lauren nods, sitting down on one of the couches and raising her eyebrows at Camila, who has stopped mid-pace to watch her. “It’s- well, I promised you a proper cooked dinner, and… well…”

As Camila trails off, Lauren frowns. “Well?”

Cringing, she tells the truth. “I can’t cook.”

The words take a moment to sink in, but Lauren bursts out laughing at her admission. “Wait, for real?”

“Yeah,” Camila sighs, and resumes pacing, “and now you probably think I’m a loser, and honestly, I am, and I was just thinking about sneakily ordering takeout and pretending I made it to impress you but _then_ our relationship would be built on a lie and what if you liked me because of my culinary skills? _Then_ you’d want me to cook for you _more_ , and I wouldn’t be able to! And then-”

“Camz,” Camila hadn’t even noticed Lauren standing back up until she grabs her by the wrists and stops her from pacing, “just don’t worry about it.”

“But you’re _you_ , and I really like you, so I’m obviously going to worry.” Camila argues, shaking her head. “I just want to make everything perfect for you so you’ll like me, too.”

“I already like you,” Lauren reminds her, sending her a comforting smile. “So you don’t need to worry.”

“But people base the whole- like, _continuing_ to see each other thing on the quality of the dates. If I give you a sucky first date, you won’t want to go on another one,” Camila points out, “and that’d… make me sad.”

“I mean, sure, that’s the case for like, randoms that I’ve met and asked me out, but we’re _friends._ ” Lauren smiles. “I already know I have fun with you. This is just a shift in context. I already _know_ we’ll have fun. I just want to know if we’ll have fun holding hands or… or snuggling, or… _whatever_. You know?”

Camila finally meets her gaze. “You’re not mad that I can’t cook?”

“No, loser,” Lauren teases her, “I think it’s cute. Besides, we can cook _together_ , because I’m a damn good chef. I kept Lucy, Keana and Vero alive all last year, until Keana decided to get her ass into gear and learn to cook. Now the burden is on both of us. I honestly don’t know how Lucy and Vero are going to cope when they’re living by themselves next year.”

“But I wanted to cook _for_ you,” Camila explains, pouting, “I needed to establish myself as the top.”

Lauren snorts, before blushing embarrassedly. “I mean… _really_?”

“ _Yes_ , really,” Camila scowls in defence. “Shut up.”

“I _totally_ believe that.” Lauren sends her a teasing grin, “cutie.”

“Shut _up_!” Camila gives her a light smack on the arm. “Are you saying that _you’re_ a top?”

“Oh, no, I’m definitely not,” Lauren snorts, “but it’s just… funny. I look at you and I don’t see that.”

“People are always so surprised,” Camila lets out a long sigh, “it’s depressing. Anyway, what are we cooking? I’m skilled enough to put frozen stuff in the oven and not burn the house down, but I’m not sure I can do anything more than that.”

Lauren hums in thought. “Maybe we should start with something simple. Like… I don’t know, really. What are you in the mood for?”

“Honestly, pizza,” Camila laughs, “maybe we should just save ourselves the trouble and order in.”

“You’re not backing out of this now,” Lauren grins at her, “I know how to make pizza dough. Let’s check if you’ve got the right ingredients.”

Camila leads Lauren into the kitchen, but there’s not that much in there, since everyone is home for Thanksgiving this week. In the last week, they’d eaten all of their perishable stuff, and all they really have in is frozen things. She opens up Ally’s baking cupboard, and there’s flour in there, but Lauren shakes her head.

“We need the stronger stuff,” Lauren explains, “but you’ve got yeast, which is good. And salt, and olive oil. We just need the bread flour. And cheese, garlic, pepperoni and tomato sauce to put on it.”

“Okay,” Camila nods, “do you know the recipe off by heart?”

“Yeah,” Lauren smiles, and Camila pushes away the _that’s fucking adorable_ thought. She doesn’t know _why_ she thinks that’s cute, but to be honest, she thinks _everything_ about Lauren is cute. “Where’s your nearest grocery store? We’ll go get the supplies.”

“Just like, a five minute walk down the road,” Camila says, and not thinking about it, she takes Lauren’s hand and leads her out into the hallway. She grabs her keys, and goes to unlock the door, and Lauren drops her hand and sits down, putting her shoes on.

Camila slips hers on in seconds, and she isn’t sure if she’s going to be brave enough to take Lauren’s hand again, so she occupies herself by playing with her keys as she waits. She pushes open the front door once Lauren is ready, and busies herself with locking it behind them.

She’s already decided that she’s not going to take Lauren’s hand again, but the older girl links their fingers together once Camila has tucked her house keys into her pocket.

“I’m sorry this isn’t the date I promised,” Camila blurts out, blushing embarrassedly. “I mean, I was going to be really chivalrous and cook you dinner and treat you like a queen but then I realised that I’m kind of useless, so-”

“You’re not useless,” Lauren squeezes her hand, “and I’m here because I like you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing.”

Camila sighs. “Promise?”

“I promise,” Lauren smiles, and Camila really is taken aback by her beauty. She wants to kiss her, but she doesn’t know if it’s the right time, and quickly averts her eyes. Lauren coughs to clear her throat. “Um, yeah, anyway. My point is, I’ve kinda liked you since the day we met, so you could be taking me to like, a fight club and I’d probably enjoy it, just because it meant we were on a date.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you out sooner,” Camila says, “you know, like, when we said we liked each other. That was the perfect window of opportunity but I’m just really awkward. And, I mean, I knew that you at least liked me a little since that night we went to the club, because I heard you and Lucy talking about it. But then you didn’t ask _me_ out, so I figured you just didn’t want to.”

“Wait… you heard us talking?” Lauren frowns at her. “So you’ve known this _entire_ time that I’ve been hopelessly crushing on you?”

“Yeah,” Camila flushes embarrassedly, “but because I’m so fucking awkward, I never approached you. Not until you made it like, _really_ obvious, because there was always the possibility that maybe you were talking about some other girl you hit with a door.”

Lauren chuckles a little, “While it’s slightly embarrassing that you knew I was pining after you this entire time, I guess it’s a good thing that the feeling was mutual. But you definitely owe me for making me think you didn’t like me. I kinda had a feeling you knew, but because you never said anything…”

“Basically, we’re both idiots,” Camila laughs, leading Lauren up the steps to the grocery store and through the automatic doors. “But whatever. We’re on a date now, so…”

“Everything has its way of working out,” Lauren smiles at her, and _god_ , that smile makes Camila want to kiss her, but she reigns the feeling in. _Not now, it’s not the right time_ , she thinks, and distracts herself with getting a cart for them. “Are you excited to be back home tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Camila grins as Lauren grabs a sack of flour from the shelf. “I’ve missed my parents and my sister so fucking much. What about you?”

Lauren grimaces as they head to the chilled section for some cheese. “I mean, it’s nice to be home in Miami, and I _have_ missed my family, but I can’t deal with being in the same house as my mom for more than like, two days.”

Camila vaguely remembers Lauren mentioning something about her mother being overprotective, but she can’t quite remember _why_. “Because she’s overprotective?”

“Mhm,” Lauren hums in response, holding up some pre-grated mozzarella. “Is this good?”

“Sure,” Camila answers, and she grabs a pack of cheddar too, knowing that she’ll finish it off if there’s any left. “How come your mom is so protective? I mean, I get that most parents are, but is it like, aggressively protective?”

“Yeah, it is,” Lauren mumbles, grabbing a loose garlic clove and some tomato passata from the shelf. “It really… affected her, when I was sick. Sometimes I feel like she thinks I’m just going to drop dead or something.”

After a few moments of thought, Camila shrugs. “You can’t really blame her, though. She almost lost you.”

“And that’s what _everyone_ says,” Lauren mutters, rolling her eyes, “can we not talk about this?”

Camila holds her hands up in defence, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”

Lauren’s expression softens, and she sighs. “Look, I get that it really affected her, because I can’t imagine what it’d be like to lose a kid, but- it’s just too much, you know? I _sneeze_ and she’s ready to drive me to the emergency room. I’d understand if it were a little overprotectiveness, but it’s like she wants to keep me in a small, disinfected bubble for the rest of my life.”

Camila lets go of the cart and squeezes Lauren’s hand. “Okay. I get it. That _is_ a little much.”

“Exactly,” Lauren answers, and after a few moments, she sends Camila a small smile. “Come on. No more serious topics for tonight. Let me get this stuff and-”

Camila frowns as they head over to the self checkouts. “Um, no, I asked _you_ out, so I’m paying.”

“Yeah, and I’m the one who came up with the clever idea to make our own pizza,” Lauren argues, scanning everything quickly. “I’d feel bad if I made you pay.”

“Too bad,” Camila says, and she pays on her card as soon as Lauren is done scanning. The older girl sends her a scowl, but it’s more cute than anything. Camila piles their items into a carrier bag, and grabs Lauren by the hand, pulling her out of the store.

“I’m going to get you back for that,” Lauren warns her, and Camila just laughs. “No, Camz, I’m serious!”

“You won’t,” Camila laughs, “because I’ll just suggest we watch _High School Musical_ tonight and you’ll forget all about it in the midst of a Sharpay defence rant.”

“I- shut up,” Lauren rolls her eyes, and after a moment of comfortable silence, looks over at Camila with a small smile, “ _can_ we watch _High School Musical_?”

Camila laughs. “How did I know you’d ask that?”

“In my defence, I wasn’t really paying attention when we had that marathon, because I was more focused on _not_ kissing you.” Lauren announces, and Camila’s stomach flutters. “But if you’re interested in something else, we could always watch _Camp Rock_. Or _The Lion King_.”

“You’re a real Disney fan, huh?” Camila asks, and Lauren grins at her. “I don’t blame you. Disney movies are bomb.”

Lauren beams. “If you said they sucked, I would’ve left. I can’t date anyone who doesn’t like Disney movies.”

Camila laughs. “What are your other dealbreakers?”

Lauren frowns in thought. “Um… not sure, really. You have to like Disney movies, you have to be able to laugh with me, you can’t have a creepy amputee fetish-”

Camila laughs. “Have you ever actually met anyone like that?”

“Yeah,” Lauren snorts, “I mean, I don’t normally hide it, you know? I only did that because I was worried it’d be a dealbreaker for you and I didn’t think I could stand the rejection. But yeah, it was like, a beach day with my friends, and this guy approached me. He said he came to NYU, because he was on exchange for a year from England. He seemed pretty normal, but then weirdly he’d ask loads of questions and it _did_ kind of freak me out, but I just brushed it off. I mean, I was a little concerned about how interested he seemed, but I kept telling myself it was just natural curiosity.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “How’d you find out he was a creeper?”

“He invited me over for the night, and I didn’t think anything of it, because we weren’t that serious.” Lauren prefaces, taking their bag of groceries as Camila unlocks the front door. “I tend to sleep in pyjama shorts, and I take the prosthetic off when I go to bed, and I was getting myself comfortable because we were going to watch a movie, and legit the second I took my prosthetic off, he got a hard on and started touching my leg. I told him to get off and he wouldn’t, so I slapped him and left. Ignored all of his weird ass messages and then he was back in England once the semester ended, so… never saw him again, thankfully.”

“Yikes,” Camila cringes, “well, pinky swear I’ll never do that.”

“I know you won’t,” Lauren laughs. She sits down on the stairs and takes her shoes off, before grabbing the groceries and taking them through to the kitchen. “Anyway. Let’s make our pizzas.”

“Alright,” Camila takes a deep breath and wraps her arms around Lauren’s waist, resting her head on the older girl’s shoulder. “What’s step one?”

“Well, I’m going to need a bowl,” Lauren smiles, squeezing Camila’s hands before the younger girl lets her go. “Where do you keep them?”

“That cupboard down there,” Camila tells her, and Lauren nods, ducking down to grab one. “So, um, are you- um…”

Lauren raises her eyebrows when Camila trails off. She places the bowl on the counter, gets Ally’s weighing scales out, and opens up the flour. “What’s your question?”

“Um,” Camila blushes, knowing it’s an awkward subject for the first date, but they’re _friends_ , so it’s not like it’s weird. “Um, are you going to sleep in my room? Mani left her bedding on just in case, so it’s totally up to you.”

Lauren wiggles her eyebrows teasingly. “You want me in your bed, Camz?”

“Shut up,” Camila rolls her eyes, “the only thing that’d happen is cuddling. I don’t put out on the first date.”

“Sure,” Lauren replies, sending her a small smile, “I’ll go in with you.”

“Are you sure?” Camila asks, “because the last time I asked you to sleep over you were kind of… uncomfortable.”

“Well, yeah,” Lauren laughs, weighing out the flour, “I didn’t want to share a bed with you in case you saw my leg and freaked. Like I said, I’m usually open about it, but… you were just… I don’t know, I just really liked you. Didn’t want to risk anything. But now I know you’re not a weirdo, it’s fine.”

“Oh, alright then,” Camila smiles, “I’m kind of cuddly, though. I’ll try and snuggle you in my sleep.”

“I’m totally the same way, so I think we’ll be fine.” Lauren chuckles, mixing up the stuff already in the bowl; if she’s being honest, Camila hadn’t really been paying attention. “I actually don’t think I’ve seen your room yet.”

“I tidied it while I was focused on packing my stuff, so it’s not like it usually is,” Camila says, “most of the time you can’t see the floor.”

Lauren laughs. “Yikes. I’m kind of a neat freak when it comes to my bedroom. Tidy space, tidy mind, right?”

“I’ll work on keeping it clean for you,” Camila announces, and Lauren blinks in surprise, looking at her with so much adoration that it makes her blush. “What? I just really like you, okay?”

“It’s just… different,” Lauren admits, shrugging, “to have someone care that much. You’re so considerate.”

“It’s not like I’m trying to be,” Camila says, “I guess it’s just my nature.”

“It’s refreshing,” Lauren comments, “most people just focus on what they want. Especially on the first date. Yet you’re already like, above and beyond everything.”

Camila just hums, and decides to change the subject. “So, um, I know you’re studying law and politics, but which of those are you going to go into?”

“Probably law,” Lauren answers, “I mean, I love politics, and I also like being creative, and I’ve done a couple of English electives and at one point I figured maybe I could go into political journalism, but I like to write and I don’t want one of my creative outlets as _work_ , because then it’d make me hate it.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “What’re your other creative outlets?”

“I have a couple,” Lauren easily replies, “I already told you that I love to paint. That’s probably my favourite thing to do when I just need to not _think_. I sometimes write poetry too. And- um, I used to sing, but not so much anymore. Mostly just in the car or in the shower or drunk karaoke.”

Camila laughs. “How is that _not much_ singing?”

“Well, uh, I actually-” Lauren cuts herself off with a laugh, “I actually auditioned for _The X Factor_ when I was sixteen. Really wanted to turn it into a career. I got through too, but then I got sick and I had to drop out.”

“Why didn’t you go back on when you got better?” Camila asks. “I mean, surely you can still sing exactly the same as you did then?”

“I just didn’t want to,” Lauren shrugs, “by that point, I’d almost died and it kind of made me revaluate everything and I realised it wasn’t what I wanted to do.”

Camila opens her mouth to say something, but then an idea pops into her head. “Oh my god. Was your audition televised? Can I see it?”

Lauren blushes, and lets out a small laugh. “Maybe when we’re on like, level two dating, I’ll show you. But right now, we’re focusing on _pizza_.”

Camila just smiles, knowing for a fact she’s going to be googling that later.

-

“Honestly, my compliments to the chef,” Camila announces, taking Lauren’s hand as _Camp Rock_ plays on the TV. “That was some damn good pizza. I know I promised you a homecooked meal, but the one you gave _me_ was even better than I could’ve produced.”

“I told you, I’m a good cook,” Lauren shrugs, yawning a little, “what time are we going to bed?”

Camila just shrugs. “Whenever you want. Why, are you tired?”

“A little,” Lauren admits, yawning again, “can we at least go upstairs? Get comfy?”

“Alright,” Camila nods; the movie is almost over anyway, and the last song is playing. She shuts the TV off and yawns, holding her hand out for Lauren to take. “You’ve got your pyjamas, right?”

“If I hadn’t, I’d be royally fucked, since we’re going to Miami tomorrow.” Lauren chuckles, rolling her eyes. She grabs some pyjamas from her suitcase and follows Camila upstairs. “Are you sure _you’re_ cool with me sharing your bed?”

“I told you, Lo,” Camila laughs, “I’m a big cuddler. I’m more than okay with it.”

“Alright,” Lauren rolls her eyes, sitting down on Camila’s bed with a yawn. “Actually, you know what, I’m going to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. I’ll knock when I’m coming back in so I don’t walk in on you naked.”

Camila blushes, and Lauren just laughs as she heads out of the room. Camila watches after her, sighing happily, and quickly changes into her pyjamas. Normally, she’s more of a night showerer, but she has plenty of time for that in the morning, so she gets herself comfortable in her bed, snuggling under the covers. She grabs her laptop, deciding that she and Lauren can watch an episode of a show before they go to sleep.

When Lauren walks back into the room, still in her clothes, Camila sits up and nods to the door. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

“You don’t have to. You look so comfy,” Lauren comments, shrugging, but Camila gets out of bed and heads to the door. “Camz, I promise, I don’t mind-”

Camila sends her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back in five minutes; besides, I still need to brush my teeth, anyway. Do you want a glass of water or something?”

Lauren smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, that’d be great, actually. Which side do you usually sleep on?”

“The side by the wall and the window,” Camila answer, and Lauren nods. Camila heads out of the door, leaving her to get changed, and goes downstairs to get two glasses of water for them during the night. She snacks on some of the leftover grated cheese, and wonders if she can convince Lauren to get a McDonald’s breakfast with her before their flight.

Camila takes the glasses upstairs, and leaves them on the side, before running into the bathroom to brush her teeth a little haphazardly. Once she’s done, she knocks on the door to her bedroom. “Are you ready?”

Lauren chuckles. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Camila opens the door, grabs the waters, and walks into the room. She puts one of the glasses on the bedside table for Lauren, and raises her eyebrows at the other girl, all snuggled up with a stuffed animal in her arms. “You sleep with a stuffed animal?”

“What of it?” Lauren sticks her tongue out, and Camila just rolls her eyes. “Are we going to watch something else?”

“Yeah,” Camila nods, and leans over Lauren to put her other glass on the windowsill. She plugs her phone in to charge, and her gaze flicks to Lauren’s prosthetic leg, leant against the foot of the bed.

Before she can say anything, Lauren just laughs at her. “You’re allowed to look, you know?”

Camila blushes, and clambers over Lauren to get into bed, bundling under the covers. She opens up her computer and passes it over to Lauren, before she takes the older girl’s hand under the covers.

“I just don’t want to say something stupid that pushes you away, or… or do something that makes you think I’m a creeper.” Camila sighs, meeting Lauren’s gaze. “But then I’m _going_ to be fucking awkward around you, because I like you.”

Lauren just hums, and shifts slightly to rest her head on Camila’s shoulder and throw a protective arm over her stomach. “You won’t push me away. If- I don’t know, if by some reason you made a stupid joke that offended or whatever, I’m not going to get all bitchy about it. I’d just say _hey, that’s not cool_ , and we’d move on. You don’t need to walk on eggshells.”

“I always walk on eggshells around my crushes,” Camila admits, sighing, “you just make me nervous because you’re so… you’re so pretty.”

Lauren grins. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I _really_ do,” Camila breathes out a sigh and studies the girl next to her, “and it’s so hard for me to restrain myself, because I _really_ want to kiss you.”

Lauren squeezes her hand under the covers. “Then kiss me.”

Camila meets her gaze, and the butterflies in her stomach feel like they’re about to burst out. She looks into those bright green eyes, and her hand finds Lauren’s waist. She pulls the older girl close to her, and once she forces herself _not_ to think, she presses her lips against Lauren’s.

Lauren’s fingers trace her jawline, and she shuffles a little closer to Camila, even though the younger Latina wasn’t sure that’s possible. Camila gently bites down on Lauren’s bottom lip, deepening the kiss, and she feels like this is what she’s been waiting for her whole life. Lauren tastes like the mint from her toothpaste and peanut butter cups and something underneath that’s just so _Lauren_ that it makes Camila never want to stop kissing her, but Lauren pulls back first, sending her a shy smile.

“Well,” Lauren murmurs, as Camila traces patterns on her bare waist where her t-shirt has ridden up, “I can say that I _definitely_ want to keep doing that.”

Camila smiles. “Yeah. I one hundred percent agree.”

-

**25/11/16**

“Happy Thanksgiving leftovers day, Kaki!”

“Thanks, Sofi,” Camila smiles, but it’s a little forced, because she knows _Thanksgiving leftovers day_ is more like leftovers _week_ , since her mom seems to cook enough for a small army, “you too.”

Camila has never really been the biggest fan of Thanksgiving. It’s kind of boring, considering whenever she’s home, she has regular dinners with her family, and while she loves eating her body weight in food, she can’t stand the amount of leftovers, and she doesn’t exactly like turkey. Everyone always tells her it tastes like chicken, that they’re basically the _same,_ but they’re wrong.

Her aversion to turkey aside, Camila really misses her friends. And while she knows she’s supposed to be enjoying her family time, she can’t stop thinking about Lauren. She hadn’t seen her since the airport, when she’d been thinking of ways of offering her a lift home, when Lauren was whisked away by a woman that looked like her mother. The older girl had called a quick goodbye at Camila, and that had been that.

So, after considering it, and knowing how Lauren said she couldn’t stand being home for more than a few days, Camila had texted her, inviting her over. She hasn’t had a response yet, but she’s optimistic, promising that her mom’s Thanksgiving cooking tastes almost as good when it’s a day old.

She’s relaxing on the couch in her pyjamas when she gets a text back.

**_green eyes (12:17PM): I’d love to come over but the idea of more Thanksgiving food makes me want to slit my own throat._ **

**_green eyes (12:18PM): BUT if you’re offering something else, maybe I’ll be more inclined. ;)_ **

Camila understands the joking tone, but if she’s being honest, she’d order a five star caterer to come to her house right now and cook for Lauren, so she replies easily with;

**_Camz (12:18PM): we could easily order in a pizza_ **

**_green eyes (12:19PM): On my way now. Honestly, I’ve been in my car since I got your text. GPS says it’s twenty minutes so I’ll see you soon. :)_ **

Camila grins, before she realises that she’s in her PJs, hasn’t showered, and looks like a little bit of a bloated wreck after the amount of stuffing she’d eaten yesterday. Jumping up from the couch, she blurts something out to her mom about having a friend over, and runs upstairs to jump in the shower quickly.

She sets a five minute timer, and skips her conditioner, before she haphazardly dries as much of her hair as she can. She digs through her closet to find a decent outfit, nothing that makes her look like she’s trying too hard, but also not slobby.

She runs back downstairs and tries to act natural. Her hair is still a little damp, but she could play it like _oh, I decided to let it air dry after my shower this morning_. She’s just getting her breath back when there’s a knock on the front door, and Camila gets up to unlock it, sending Lauren a soft smile as she lets her in.

“Hi,” Lauren greets her, sending her a shy smile as she takes her shoes off, “you look good.”

Camila blushes, before she glances at Lauren and smiles. Clearly, she’s been taking advantage of the warm Miami weather, because she’s looking slightly tanner than she did when Camila last saw her, and she’s wearing a cute, flowy summer dress that stops at the knees, and that’s when Camila realises it’s the first time she’s _really_ seen Lauren’s prosthetic. At least, seen her wearing it. Passing over that, she meets Lauren’s gaze again, and realises the older girl is basically makeup free, and looks cuter than ever.

“ _You_ look good,” Camila comments, smiling, “I’m just lucky I didn’t break out from eating my body weight in food yesterday.”

“And today we’re going to order greasy as fuck pizza,” Lauren points out, “really great for your health, huh?”

“I mean, you’re already missing a leg, so I don’t think you need to worry about much else,” Camila says without thinking, and when Lauren bursts out laughing, she holds back the apology she almost blurted out. “You’re not mad?”

Lauren takes her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, flashing her a smile. “God dammit, I think I really like you.”

Camila just frowns at her. “For real, you’re not mad?”

“Don’t make it weird,” Lauren just grins, before using her free hand to gesture in front of them. “Come on, give me the tour of your house.”

After a few moments of stunned silence, Camila nods, and pulls Lauren to the lounge, where _Meet the Robinsons_ is still playing on TV, and the blanket she was snuggled under is laid haphazardly across the couch. “Um, that’s the lounge. The spot covered in blanket is the place I’ve been camped since I got home.”

Lauren laughs. “Understandable. Wish I could’ve done the same, but my mom was pretty insistent on _family time_ which resulted in a game of Monopoly that got my brother grounded.”

Camila smiles a little. “You never told me you had a sibling.”

“I’m the oldest of three, actually,” Lauren comments, swinging their hands as Camila leads her into the kitchen. “Me, then Chris, then Tay.”

“I’m the oldest of two,” Camila mimics her, “you’ll meet Sofi at some point today. Anyway, this is the kitchen, there is the table that I physically vacuumed up all the food at, that’s my mom, and we’ll be leaving this room before she can tell you anything embarrassing.”

Before Camila can pull Lauren out of the room, Sinu smiles and introduces herself. “It’s nice to meet you. Karla almost never brings friends home, since all of her college friends live on different ends of the country. Are you from around here?”

At the use of Camila’s first name, Lauren snickers a little. Camila slaps her on the arm, and then returns to trying to tug her from the room, but Lauren derails that plan. “Camz, stop pulling me, I want to meet your mom!”

Her mother sends her a stern glare, and Camila sighs, reluctantly letting go of Lauren’s arm. “Mami, this is Lauren. She’s my… friend from college.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Mrs Cabello,” Lauren smiles, and thankfully doesn’t elaborate on Camila’s _friend_ label. “And yeah, I’m from Miami, but I met Camila up at college. We flew back here together, though. It was nice to have company on the plane.”

“You mentioned you flew out with a friend,” Sinu addresses Camila, but before she can reply, she turns back to Lauren, “how did you two meet?”

It’s Camila’s turn to smirk, and before Lauren can fabricate anything, she announces, “oh, Lauren spilled scalding hot coffee all over me and ruined one of my favourite shirts.”

Lauren lets out an affronted gasp. “Um, excuse me, your shirt was _fine_ , and you kept insisting it was half your fault, _and_ I bought you hot chocolate to make up for it!”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Camila comments, but sends Lauren an evil grin, “and _then_ she hit me with a door.”

Lauren scowls at her. “Well, you stood on my toes at the club.”

Camila just laughs. “Yeah, your _fake_ toes.”

“You are _so_ -” Lauren splutters, shaking her head, “they’re _expensive_ , you could’ve caused some serious damage!”

Camila bursts out laughing. “You didn’t even care, you were too busy talking about how _Bop to the Top_ is the anthem of the century.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “That’s because _it is_.”

“Your _High School Musical_ obsession aside,” Camila answers, still laughing at Lauren and how defensive she got, and turning back to her mom, catching her glancing down at Lauren’s leg, “Lauren’s staying the night, if that’s cool?”

“Of course,” Sinu assures the two of them, “it’ll be Thanksgiving leftovers for dinner, unless you want to get something made for yourself, but Karla is banned from the stove after an experiment with pasta.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows and looks in Camila’s direction, waiting for an explanation. The younger Latina sends her a sheepish smile and shrugs. “I didn’t know you needed water in the pot.”

“Oh my god,” Lauren laughs, “it’s official, you’re definitely more of a hazard than I am.”

Camila just pouts. “You’re a close second though.”

“I’m not denying it,” Lauren says, and finally relents when Camila gives her a tug on the wrist. She turns back to Sinu and puts on that charming smile of hers. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs Cabello.”

Sinu smiles. “Please, just Sinu for Karla’s friends.”

Once Camila is sure they’re out of earshot, she sends Lauren a bright smile. “She definitely likes you.”

Lauren snorts. “You sure about that? Because I don’t think I’d like someone very much if I found out they’d hit my daughter with a door and scalded her with coffee.”

“I think she found our bickering endearing,” Camila laughs, quickly threading their fingers together as she leads Lauren upstairs. “Besides, I probably looked happy with you, and all my mom really wants is for me to be happy.”

“That’s cute,” Lauren smiles, “anyway, I didn’t know I was staying over tonight.”

“That’s only if you want to,” Camila assures her, not wanting to pressure her into anything. “I just figured… you mentioned that being at home can be kind of stifling, so I guess I thought you might want a break from that. But if you don’t, that’s fine too.”

Lauren looks at her for a moment, before her face breaks out into a grin. “That’s so fucking sweet. Yeah, honestly, I could really use the break. I’m going to need to go home to grab my stuff at some point, but I’d love to stay over.”

“Okay, great,” Camila nods, leading Lauren over to her bedroom door and thanking every powerful force she can think of that she’s actually managed to maintain some semblance of tidiness. She twists the handle and pushes the door open, before escorting Lauren inside. “So, um, this is my bedroom. Ta da.”

Camila’s room is the smallest in the house; when she was fifteen, she’d decided to swap with Sofi, who had so much more stuff to store than she did. While Sofi had her masses of toys, Camila had her guitar, some posters, a couple meaningful things from her childhood, and all of her clothes.

(Plus, the smaller bedroom had an ensuite bathroom. But she totally gave her sister the big room out of the goodness of her heart.)

She tells Lauren this, leaving out the part about the bathroom, and the older girl laughs. “You’re definitely not like me. I threw a fit when I was sick and my mom suggested I switch rooms with her and my dad. Their room is downstairs, you see, and they didn’t want me dealing with stairs when, you know, I had bone cancer in my leg. Even though I had a massive tantrum, they still made me switch with them.”

Camila sits down on her bed, and Lauren joins her. “Did you switch back when you got better?”

“Nope,” Lauren shakes her head, popping the _p_ , “by that point I’d realised that a downstairs bedroom had its advantages. Mostly for sneaking out with Lucy. And it’s closer to the kitchen for the occasional three a.m. snack, _and_ it has an ensuite bathroom.”

Camila smiles a little, but the other question on her mind is more important than any comments she had on Lauren’s room. “So, if Lucy’s from Miami too, how come she didn’t fly back with us?”

“She never goes home for Thanksgiving. Her dad wasn’t going to be there, and she doesn’t really like the holiday, so she either stays at college or does something with Vero.” Lauren shrugs. “She only really comes back here for Christmas and summer.”

Camila hums. “And if you don’t really like being home, why do you bother coming back? Why spend money on flights if you’re not going to be happy?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my family. I love spending time with them and seeing them, and I’m so close with them. Especially with my dad.” Lauren says, but shrugs. “The only thing is my mom gets kind of stifling. But if I tried not coming back at _all_ , she’d probably show up at college and try to stay for a while, and I don’t want _that_ happening, so I come back for all of my breaks to placate her.”

“Well, you’ll always have me for a plane buddy if you want that,” Camila offers, and Lauren just hums, her eyes falling on the only personal photograph Camila has on her wall; a picture of her and Sofi, standing by the Disney castle. “That was a few years back. Have you ever been to Disney?”

“Lucy and I went to DisneyWorld for a week when we were fourteen. Her mom took us,” Lauren answers, and before Camila has even registered it, she’s rested her head on the younger girl’s shoulder and sighed happily. “We should go sometime.”

Camila smiles. “There are a lot of places I want to visit. Travelling is something I love but haven’t done enough of. Have you travelled anywhere?”

“I used my wish to go to a _The 1975_ concert in London and meet the band after,” Lauren says, “Lucy, Vero, Keana and I took a trip to Mexico for spring break last year. And I’ve been to a couple other European countries, but when I was younger.”

Camila frowns. “You got a wish? I thought that was only for little kids. And like, terminal people.”

“Anyone under eighteen can qualify. I was sixteen,” Lauren says, “and I guess they thought losing a leg was a decent enough selling point, because the trip was scheduled like the week before the amputation.”

“Did it hurt?” Camila asks, and she knows it’s a stupid question, because of _course_ losing a leg _hurt_. “You know. The amputation.”

Lauren snorts. “I wasn’t awake for it, you do know that, right? They didn’t just walk over to my hospital bed with an axe and chop it off.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “Alright, if you’re going to be snarky about it...”

Lauren laughs lightly, but squeezes Camila’s hand. “I’m always snarky. I think you should know that by now. And Camz?”

Camila hums in reply. “Mhm?”

Lauren smiles. “I think it’s really cute that you’re concerned about me.”

“Always,” Camila assures her, and before she can get herself caught up in thinking about it, she just _does_ , and pulls Lauren in for a quick kiss. It’s not slow like their first one, it’s soft and gentle and quick, and Camila pulls away before either of them can deepen it. “Alright, you know what? I’m going to throw you a bone. Let’s watch _High School Musical 2_.”

Lauren just grins. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

-

At around five p.m., after some extensive Disney movie watching, Lauren stands up and stretches, excusing herself. “I’m going to go home and grab my stuff. I might be a little while, because my mom doesn’t like it when I stay with people she doesn’t know, but I can always climb out of my bedroom window if it comes to that.”

“I can come with you if that’s what you need,” Camila assures her, “anyway, doesn’t your mom need to drive you here?”

“No, I’ve got my own car and I’m not dumb enough to let her swipe the keys,” Lauren laughs, “you can come if you want, but she might interrogate you, so I’d rather keep the whole _meet the mother_ thing until we’re serious.”

“I mean, technically she met me,” Camila points out, “that _was_ your mom dragging you off at the airport, right?”

“Yeah,” Lauren nods, “sorry about that abrupt goodbye, by the way. She needed me home _as soon as possible_ so the family fun could start. I was going to offer you a ride home, and my mom had a rant at me about stranger danger.”

Camila blinks in surprise, “Wait, I thought it was just _health_ related stuff she freaks out about.”

“I fucking _wish_.” Lauren barks out a laugh. “She’s invented all of these wild scenarios in her head to do with pretty much anything. The cancer coming back is obviously like, her main fear, since any time I get a fucking cold she thinks I’m on my deathbed, but legit any possible way I could end up dying? She’s thought it through.”

Camila frowns. “How’d you get out of the house today, then?”

“Just yelled I was going to a friend’s house as I was halfway out the door while my dad kept my mom focused on helping Taylor with her homework.” Lauren says, shrugging. “I’m probably going to get shit for disappearing, but I’ll be back here for our impromptu sleepover. Thanks, by the way, for offering to let me stay.”

Camila just smiles. “Oh, obviously I just want to order a pizza.”

Lauren smirks as they walk down the stairs. “I like to think I’m a little bit better than pizza.”

“Oh, trust me,” Camila laughs as Lauren starts getting her shoes on. “You’re a total snack.”

Lauren hums, tying up her laces and standing up. She glances around them for a moment, and pulls Camila in for a quick kiss. “See you soon?”

“Yeah,” Camila smiles, unlocking the front door for Lauren, “drive safe, okay?”

Lauren sends her that charming smile of hers as she heads out of the door, unlocking the car parked on the curb outside Camila’s house. “Always do.”

Camila waits until Lauren has gotten into her car and driven away before closing the front door, and she turns around to see her little sister, stood on the stairs, giving her a _look_ that could only be described as _teasing_.

Camila raises her eyebrows. “What?”

“You’ve got a _girlfriend_ ,” Sofi announces, and Camila’s eyes widen. “What’s her name? Why’d you stay upstairs all day?”

“Shut up, she’s not my girlfriend yet,” Camila rolls her eyes, “don’t you go telling mami about it.”

“She was already talking about it with papi, saying you were upstairs with a girl and she thinks you’re dating,” Sofi replies, and Camila can’t remember when her sister became such a smart ass. “She’s pretty.”

“I know she’s pretty,” Camila says, because that’s pretty fucking obvious, “her name is Lauren. Maybe I’ll let you meet her later.”

Sofi laughs. “Okay. Should I tell her that you want to marry her?”

Camila scowls. “Shut up, Sofi. Or I’ll embarrass you in front of all your friends.”

“Fine,” Sofi rolls her eyes, “but I‘m still going to laugh at you with mami.”

Camila laughs as she heads towards the kitchen, planning on making herself a quick milkshake while she waits for Lauren. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

She pushes open the kitchen door and stars digging around for the milkshake mix when her mom walks in, flashing her a smile as she goes to the coffee machine. “Is Lauren still here?”

“She’s just gone to get her pyjamas and stuff from home,” Camila says, finally finding the banana milkshake mix in the back of the cupboard. “We’re probably going to watch a couple movies in my room.”

“She’s very pretty,” Sinu comments, and Camila knows what her mom is angling at; she’s trying to get Camila to gush about how much she likes Lauren, and that’s not going to happen. “Have you had a good day with her?”

Camila hums, distracting herself by getting the milk from the fridge. “Yeah, it’s been nice.”

Sinu watches her, like she’s waiting for Camila to give out more information, but Camila keeps her mouth shut as she spoons some milkshake mix into her glass. “Are you really not going to tell me?”

As she pours the milk into her class, Camila finally gives in. “Fine, I like her, is that what you’re fishing for?”

Sinu smiles. “I knew it. Does she know?”

“Yes.” Camila admits, knowing that she was going to gossip about everything with her mom sooner than later. “She knows. We’ve been on one official date, and she definitely likes me back, so…”

“I’m happy for you, mija,” Sinu smiles at her, “you seem very happy.”

Finally, Camila grins back at her mom. “I really am. I know it’s early, but she’s the first person I’ve ever had this much of a connection with.”

“That’s sweet,” Sinu replies, “she’d better be good to you.”

Camila knows she will. “Of course. I wouldn’t be interested if I didn’t think she would be.”

As Camila finishes making her milkshake, she heads out of the kitchen, hoping that the small amount of information she’s given her mom will tide her over for a little while, and then heads up to her room. She knows Lauren basically just left, but she checks her phone for any updates and isn’t surprised when there’s not a message yet.

She rests her head on her pillows and tries brainstorming some kind of date idea for their next _official_ date, because just hanging out at Camila’s parents’ house doesn’t qualify as a second date. She’s thinking maybe they could go to the beach, and have a cute little picnic, but a _picnic_ involves some level of food preparation, and Camila is kind of hopeless in the kitchen.

She decides to change into her pyjamas before she does anything else, because she and Lauren had decided they’re going to get comfortable once Lauren comes back. She pulls on a pair of pyjama shorts, before grabbing an old hoodie from her closet and throwing it on; she’ll switch to a t-shirt once it’s time to go to sleep.

Once that’s done, she drinks her milkshake and still ponders over _interesting_ date ideas, but the only thing she can think of is a theme park, and she doesn’t know if Lauren would like that; what if she’s afraid of rollercoasters? She also thinks they could go to an aquarium, but she doesn’t know if Lauren’s one of those people who are aggressively against anything like that.

She’s still thinking about it when there’s a faint knock on the front door, and she races down the stairs to answer it first. She puts on her best smile as she opens it, about to apologise for her dressed-down appearance, but Lauren had changed out of the dress she’d been wearing before, and is in sweatpants and an old sports jersey, her hair tied back in a messy bun.

“I guess we had the same idea,” Camila laughs, “basically to get in pyjamas as soon as possible.”

“Great minds think alike,” Lauren smiles at her, stepping over the threshold and into Camila’s house. She shrugs off her bomber jacket after stuffing her car keys in the pocket, and when she walks past Camila to head to the stairs, that’s when she notices the tattoo for the first time.

“You have a neck tattoo,” Camila states the obvious, and Lauren quickly takes her shoes off, “a dragonfly.”

“Yep,” Lauren nods, shouldering her backpack. “Got it when I was sixteen.”

Camila raises her eyebrows, but follows Lauren up the stairs. “Isn’t that illegal? Like, don’t you have to be eighteen?”

“You can be sixteen with parental permission,” Lauren answers, and shrugs her backpack off her shoulders as they walk into Camila’s room. She sits down on the bed and gets her stuffed Nala out of her bag, sending Camila a small smile. “I’d wanted a tattoo for years, and I knew what I wanted, so… it’s not like it was a split second decision.”

Camila just smiles. “I have mad respect for the fact that you somehow _convinced_ your parents to let you do it. Like, it’s totally legal for me to go get a tattoo right now if I wanted, but I think my parents would disown me.”

“Well, the whole _it’s permanent_ thing didn’t seem like a big deal to them when it looked like I was about to bite it.” Lauren shrugs, plugging her phone charger into an outlet like she hadn’t casually mentioned her own near death. “I have a couple others, but I had to wait until eighteen for those.”

Camila just stares at her. “You never told me it got that bad.”

Lauren looks up at her, but the small, meaningless shrug is nothing compared to the emotions swimming in her eyes. “I figured I’d spare you the details. Besides, it’s not something I’d enjoy reliving.”

Camila opens her mouth, to question it, to ask Lauren to get it out of the way and she’ll tell her things too, that way they’re both open and honest, but she brushes all of that aside and nods. “Alright. I’d never pressure you to tell me anything.”

“I know, Camila,” Lauren reaches out and takes her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you tell me your tragic backstory and maybe I’ll open up.”

Camila hums, shrugging. “Not much to tell, really. I had a happy childhood-”

“It was a joke, Camz,” Lauren quickly interrupts her, “you don’t need to tell me anything.”

“I know I don’t need to,” Camila assures her, clambering over Lauren and getting herself comfortable in her bed, “but in a way, you asked. Like I said, I had a happy childhood. When I was younger I had problems with bullies in school, people making fun of my accent and the fact that I couldn’t speak English very well at first, but I kept to myself. Got through compulsory school with the help of my family, because I didn’t have any friends. Except Dinah, but that was online; we’d met a couple of times but our friendship remained strictly technological until we both got into the same college.”

Lauren lies down next to her, and Camila feels completely exposed under the gaze of those bright green eyes. “You don’t have an accent.”

“Not anymore,” Camila says, “I mean, I was seven when I started school over here, but when I first moved, I had almost no English. Literally learned from watching _Spongebob_. Kids are mean when you’re different, so… I was no stranger to being made fun of.”

“What I don’t get is…” Lauren pauses, and shifts so her head is resting on Camila’s shoulder. She takes the younger girl’s hand and plays with her fingers, and Camila wonders why this beautiful woman cares about what she has to say. “What I don’t get is how you didn’t have any friends. Because you’re like, the most amazing person I know. And I know a lot of people.”

“Well… while that is an absolutely adorable thing to say,” Camila braves it and carefully rests her hand on Lauren’s waist, pulling her a little closer and feeling the hard metal of Lauren’s prosthetic leg through her sweatpants, “I’m kind of socially awkward, in case you haven’t noticed. Doctors have said it’s social anxiety, but I’ve always been like this, and it’s not like I can be _born_ with a mental health issue, right?”

“I don’t think so,” Lauren shrugs, absently tracing patterns across Camila’s stomach under her shirt. “But you never know. You could be a statistical anomaly.”

She’s joking, but sometimes Camila feels like she genuinely _is_. “Maybe.”

“Not to be cheesy and uplifting because I know how fucking annoying it is when people make you out to be some kind of superhero just because you’ve gone through some shit,” Laurens says, pushing herself up on her elbow and looking down at Camila, “but you spoke to me fine. Legit wouldn’t have known you were anxious if you hadn’t just told me, so clearly you’re better than you know.”

“I was so intimidated by you at first. But that’s mostly just because you’re pretty. It’s so bad, but it’s easier to talk to people I’m not attracted to,” Camila explains, shrugging, “with you, it was so hard at first, but then it was like… like something about you made it easy. You’re still insanely attractive, but it was like you were sending this calming energy towards me and it made me relax.”

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone this, but I actually have magical powers,” Lauren stage-whispers, and Camila just laughs, pulling her closer by the waist. “In all seriousness, I’m glad you felt comfortable around me, Camz. Means I’m doing something right.”

“Like you could ever do anything _wrong_ ,” Camila murmurs, kissing her. “That’s practically impossible.”

Lauren just smiles, and rests against Camila again. They lay in a comfortable silence, Camila listening to the sound of Lauren’s breaths, and just when she thinks the other girl has fallen asleep, she speaks. “It was stage two when they found it in my ankle.”

Camila looks down at her, but Lauren doesn’t meet her gaze, and continues drawing patterns across Camila’s stomach. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“They gave me some radiotherapy to shrink try and it, then put me in for surgery to get the tumour removed,” Lauren continues like she hadn’t heard her, “Osteosarcoma is pretty rare, so there were only specific doctors, and we had to wait a while for the surgery date, but during the wait, things got worse. There was a second tumour a little higher up, in my calf. They told me that they’d go ahead with the limb sparing surgery, but by that point it’d progressed to stage three.”

“A week before the original surgery, I woke up in the middle of the night in the most pain I’ve ever felt, and I was rushed to the emergency room. In the panic, I heard them saying something like they thought it’d spread to my lungs, that it was likely it was stage four and terminal, and then they knocked me out on painkillers and rushed me in for emergency surgery and cut out the original tumour.” Lauren recounts, and Camila just stares at her, tears in her eyes, hating the fact that this wonderfully sweet girl had to go through something like this, “I came around the next day, and they’d done some tests and it hadn’t spread anywhere except to the fibula bone in the same leg, which means it wasn’t past stage three, but they needed to keep me in the hospital for observation and start on chemotherapy. They were basically doing everything they could to prevent amputation.”

“Once my parents came to visit, I asked them I could be buried with my grandmother, and if we could go shopping for something nice that I could be cremated in,” Lauren continues, fingers still walking across Camila’s stomach, “just as a precaution. That was when I asked them if I could get my tattoo once I was okay to go home again, and they said yes. I was in the hospital under observation for a week, and they let me go home once they were certain there hadn’t been any kind of spreading.”

“That’s when I started chemo, and both physically and emotionally, it kind of destroyed me. Makes everything taste gross and metallic, too. I used to be really athletic and toned, and because it took so much out of me, and because of how it made food taste, I wasn’t eating much or getting any exercise, so I just started wasting away. I freaked out when my hair started falling out. Funny how I still cared when it was that or _death_ , but I guess that’s the mind of a sixteen-year-old girl for you.”

Lauren barks out a laugh, but it’s a little bitter. “Lucy really was my rock at that time. She did everything she could to make me feel beautiful when I hated myself and physically couldn’t bear to look in a mirror. But even with the toll it took on me, the chemo was working _slowly_ , and not as effectively as they thought it would, and after around six months of it, I got the choice. Either they amputated below the knee and have a few more doses of chemo afterwards to make sure I was officially cancer free, or I could continue with chemo only and hope it works by itself, but run the risk of the chemo working slower than the cancer cells were growing, and it spreading to my thigh and have them end up taking more of my leg.”

Camila kisses the top of Lauren’s head in a way she hopes is comforting. “And you made the choice.”

“It took me a few days,” Lauren murmurs, finally meeting her gaze, “but with the way everything had gone so far, I didn’t want to take the risk. Sure, maybe just the chemo would’ve worked, but there was more of a chance that it _wouldn’t,_ and I’ve never been a gambler, so I told them I’d go ahead with the amputation. Then I went to see _The 1975_ , and ten days later, I was recovering from surgery. After that, I had another two months of chemo, and in that time I started learning how to walk with the prosthetic, and after _that_ I was officially in remission and I’m NEC for four years next August.”

“I hate that you had to go through that,” Camila mumbles, squeezing Lauren around the waist and holding her close, like she might disappear if she doesn’t. “That you had to make such a tough decision at sixteen.”

“Well, I was almost seventeen,” Lauren corrects her, “they found it in the September of 2012. I had the first emergency surgery in October that year. Then they started chemo in the November and that went until April. Then the amputation in May. Then another two months of chemo and some scans and check-ups until they declared me in remission on the 24th August 2013. So, almost a whole year of my life right there.”

“It shouldn’t have happened to you,” Camila mumbles, “you’re too good.”

Lauren snorts. “Cancer doesn’t care who you are. It’s just a mutation trying to survive in a nameless host. But anyway, no more depressing stuff, okay?”

“Okay,” Camila nods, before grinning and replying with, “ _maybe okay can be our always_.”

Lauren crinkles her nose in disgust. “Okay, _fuck_ that book. And no, I’m not going to take you to Amsterdam so you’ll sleep with me, _before_ you ask.”

“I’d sleep with you anyway,” Camila blurts out, blushing when she realises what she’s said. Lauren just cackles at the red across Camila’s cheeks. “Alright, alright, don’t get full of yourself, I didn’t want to inflate your ego any _more_.”

“Excuse you, my ego is a perfectly normal size,” Lauren shoots back, before she pushes herself up on her elbow again and looks over at Camila. She studies her for a moment, and the cocky grin melts away into a small, heartfelt smile. “Hey, Camz?”

Camila’s heart flutters at the adoring look in Lauren’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“I generally avoid telling people everything I just told you,” Lauren lays back against the pillows this time, and takes Camila’s hand under the covers. “I guess since I met you I’ve had this feeling that you’re different, you know? You’re different to every other person I’ve ever been mildly interested in and there’s something about you that makes me want to open up.”

“That’s funny,” Camila murmurs, turning to look at her. “I feel exactly the same way.”

Lauren smiles, and turns her head to gaze up at the ceiling, smiling fondly at the little glow in the dark stars above her bed. “Scared of the dark, Camz?”

“Those were up there when this was Sofi’s room,” Camila answers, because that’s the truth, “I just never took them down. I like the nights because nothing is expected of me. The world just… _stops_. I could sit and goof around on my computer, and that action wouldn’t have any consequences because nobody is awake to tell me otherwise.”

“Nice logic, but I think if you robbed a bank in the middle of the night, there’d still be consequences.” Lauren teases her, and Camila chuckles in agreement. “Anyway. Now that we’ve got the dramatic storytelling out of the way, what’s the plan?”

“Are you hungry?” Camila asks, sitting up and grabbing her phone to check the time. “Because if you’re hungry, we can order in a pizza. One each or to share, I don’t mind. But a fair warning, I eat fast and I eat a _lot_.”

“Probably best we get two mediums instead of one big one to share, then,” Lauren says, “we can always order it now but put the delivery time for later.”

“Lauren Jauregui, always the sensible one,” Camila comments, opening up her laptop and going straight to the Domino’s website. She sorts her pizza out first – a create your own with extra cheese, garlic butter, chicken and bacon – and then passes the computer to Lauren, who settles on a regular pepperoni. She adds a side of chicken strips and some cookies for dessert, and quickly pays and sets the delivery time for around seven thirty.

“You should’ve let me pay,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “but what’s your bank details? I’ll transfer you my half.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort. I’m treating you,” Camila decides, sending her a small smile, “don’t worry, I work over summers and Christmas and I have more than enough saved up. One pizza isn’t going to bankrupt me.”

After a few moments of silence, Lauren grumbles, “fine. But I’m totally doing something for you in return.”

“You’re so sweet,” Camila smiles, before she double checks the time and opens up her Netflix. “We have like, an hour until our food arrives. Pick something.”

“Damn, so much power,” Lauren jokes as Camila passes the laptop to her. She scrolls through some of the options, checking Camila’s _continue watching_ to make sure she doesn’t pick something she’s already seen, and snickering a little when she sees _Victorious_ in the list.

“That was for my sister,” Camila blurts out, even though it was kind of for her too, “I was babysitting and needed to entertain her, and it’s not like _you_ can talk, you _High School Musical enthusiast.”_

“It’s a cinematic masterpiece, okay?” Lauren rolls her eyes, and finally settles on an episode of _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_. “Well, except for the fact that Sharpay was constantly villainized for having _ambition_.”

“Oh, just shut up and come cuddle,” Camila rolls her eyes, outstretching her arms in Lauren’s direction, “you know you want to.”

Lauren smiles, but it’s a little uneasy. “Do you mind if I take the prosthetic off? It’s not exactly super comfortable and-”

“Of course I don’t mind, dummy,” Camila rolls her eyes, and settles back, keeping the episode paused on the computer. “Do whatever you want.”

Lauren watches her for a moment, and then nods, shifting over to the edge of the bed. Camila doesn’t know if she’s allowed to look or not, but Lauren doesn’t say anything as she rolls up the leg of her sweatpants. She watches as Lauren fiddles with a pin and unscrews the bottom part of the leg from the top half. Then, she slowly pulls the remaining part of the prosthetic, what looks like a sock with a screw coming out of it, from what’s left of her leg, and rolls her sweatpants back down. She screws the two halves together, leans the leg against the side of the bed, and swiftly snuggles back under the covers before Camila can really see anything.

As Lauren rests her head on Camila’s shoulder, the younger girl carefully wraps her arms around her, like she’s something precious. “Aren’t you going to play the show?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Camila quickly presses the spacebar to play it, and pulls Lauren close as it plays. They stay snuggling until Camila gets the notification on the pizza tracker that it’s out for delivery, and she stands up, clambers over Lauren, and decides to camp by the door until it comes.

When she arrives back upstairs with the pizzas in hand, Lauren sits up with a grin. “Don’t drop them on me.”

Camila chuckles. “Maybe I will, and then we’ll be even for the door hitting.”

“You wouldn’t want to waste pizza,” Lauren points out, shifting over in the bed so Camila can get in without having to climb over her. She opens up her own box and takes out a slice, munching on it happily. “Now _this_ is what I needed. I was so _over_ turkey after yesterday. I’m pretty sure my mom is going to make me take a suitcase full of leftovers back to school.”

Camila smiles, opening up the side of chicken strips and offering Lauren one. “Thanks for being my excuse to order in instead of being forced to eat endless amounts of leftovers.”

“Back at you,” Lauren smiles, taking a chicken strip from the box. “Camz?”

“Yeah?” Camila asks through a mouthful of pizza. “What’s up?”

Lauren turns to her, watching her with a small smile. “I’m really fucking glad I spilled my coffee on you.”

Camila almost chokes on her pizza from laughing.

-

**2/12/16**

“Mila, if you don’t stop playing Christmas songs on full blast, I’m going to _kill_ you.”

Camila laughs as Dinah burst through her bedroom door, and turns up _Last Christmas_ even more. “It’s festive time!”

“It’s _shut up, we have finals_ time,” Dinah rolls her eyes, “for real, I’ve actually got to study.”

After a few moments of mock thought, Camila turns her music off completely and grabs her coat. “I’ll go somewhere else, then. Let you study.”

Dinah frowns. “You don’t have to _leave_. I just needed you to be a little quiet.”

“I know, but I’m going to go see if Lauren wants to go for a walk and see if any Christmas lights are up,” Camila says, “if she doesn’t want to, then I’ll just go for a walk by myself.”

Before Camila can put her coat on, Dinah sits down on the bed. “Is everything going well with her?”

“That sounds a lot like the studying you so desperately needed to do,” Camila comments, and Dinah just rolls her eyes again, “but _yes_ , everything is going well. I bought her a Christmas present – nothing flashy, since we’re not exactly _together_ , but she’s my friend and I’d buy her something anyway – and I’ve been trying to figure out a really grand and romantic second date. After that, I think I’ll be comfortable enough to approach the subject of us being _official_.”

“I’m glad you’re happy, Walz,” Dinah smiles, “and Lauren _does_ seem really cool.”

Camila pouts as she shrugs her coat on. “Don’t try and steal my girl, Hansen.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dinah laughs, standing up from Camila’s bed and following her out of the room. Camila shuts the door behind them, and checks the battery percentage on her phone. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, probably.”

Dinah nods. “See you then.”

Camila heads down the stairs, and asks Ally to make her some Christmas cookies, then runs out of the front door before she can say no. Once she’s down the street and she knows Ally isn’t chasing her and giving her a lecture on how she’s _not_ just some kind of baking machine, she slows her pace and uses her maps app to figure out the route to Lauren’s from her place.

It’s not that long of a walk, just ten minutes, and she sends Lauren a quick text to warn her of her arrival. She hasn’t read it by the time Camila gets to Lauren’s doorstep, and she knocks, hoping that her roommates are in class. She knows from Lauren’s schedule that she’s not in class, but she worries that maybe she has a meeting or something, and she’s not going to be in.

She knocks on the door anyway, and Lucy opens it. “Oh, Camila. Hey.”

She moves aside to let Camila in, and the younger girl apologises quickly. “I’m sorry, I’m here kind of unannounced, I just figured maybe Lauren would want to go out and have a look for some Christmas lights.”

Lucy smiles a little, “She probably would, but she’s knocked out on the couch right now. We stayed up studying for a test last night and she literally didn’t sleep since it was a morning one. When we got in, she put on this thing she recorded for one of her politics classes and passed out five minutes into it. Feel free to go jump on her and wake her up, though. I was going to in a little while anyway because I need lunch and she won’t let me in the kitchen without supervision.”

Camila laughs. “I’m exactly the same way. One time I burned pasta and almost set the house on fire.”

“Clearly Lauren’s got a type,” Lucy snickers, and that’s when Camila remembers that Lauren and Lucy had dated before. “But yeah, she’s just through there. Let me know when she’s awake so I can get the chef to make me grilled cheese.”

Camila nods, and walks into the lounge, finding Lauren asleep on the couch. She’s passed out in the same sports jersey she’d worn at Camila’s house, and a pair of washed-out Spongebob pyjama shorts. Someone had thrown a blanket over her rather haphazardly, and her prosthetic is on the floor, like it’d been stood against the coffee table but fallen. Camila’s gaze drifts to what’s left of Lauren’s left leg, and it’s really not as dramatic as Lauren has described it. The leg ends just below the knee, and there’s a faded pink scar by the base, and Camila can’t see why anyone would consider it a total dealbreaker. Uncaring, Camila’s gaze flicks back to Lauren’s face. Her soft pink lips are parted slightly as she breathes, and she looks so peaceful and relaxed that Camila doesn’t really want to wake her up. In fact, she’d feel _guilty_ doing it.

She’s just about to turn around and go home, to let Lauren have her rest, when the girl she’d met briefly before, Keana, walks into the room.

Obviously seeing the conflict in Camila’s mind, she laughs. “Just jump on her and wake her up.”

“She looks so peaceful, though,” Camila argues, looking back at Lauren, who shifts in her sleep and pulls Nala closer to her chest. “She’s so cute.”

Keana laughs, grabbing a pen from the coffee table and heading back towards the door. “Not when you’ve seen her hungover or grumpy, she’s not. Just wake her up, she won’t care if it’s you.”

Camila frowns. “What does _that_ mean?”

Another girl, the only one of Lauren’s housemates Camila hasn’t met, walks past the door and catches her question. She figures that this is Vero, Lucy’s girlfriend, and she wonders why _all_ of Lauren’s friends are so pretty. “She never shuts up about you, that’s what it means.”

Camila looks back at Lauren, as if she’s going to confirm this in her sleep. “Really?”

“Mhm. It’s always like, _oh, guess what Camz said_ , or someone will point something out and she’ll be like _Camz does that, and here’s fifty other reasons why I like her_ ,” Keana laughs, rolling her eyes at her sleeping friend, “seriously, she doesn’t stop.”

“She’s going to hate us for telling you this,” Vero calls behind her as she heads up the stairs, “but whatever, it’s funny.”

“My point is, wake her up,” Keana says as she passes Camila to leave the room, “if I did it, she’d be a grouch, but if you woke her up, she wouldn’t care.”

As Keana leaves the room, Camila glances at a sleeping Lauren with a tiny smile, and makes her way over to the couch, leaning over the older girl and shaking her gently. At first, Lauren stays unresponsive, and Camila’s heart drops, because _what if she’s not breathing_ , but with another, firmer shake, Lauren groans and green eyes flutter open.

Camila watches as the misty sleep leaves Lauren’s eyes, recognition floods in, and the older girl sits up, yawning. “What’re you doing here?”

“I came to see if you want to hang out.” Camila answers easily, and when Lauren sits up properly, she takes the spot on the couch next to her. Her arm brushes Lauren’s and she’s practically radiating warmth, and Camila doesn’t want to pull away. “We don’t have to do anything. You can kick me out right now if you want.”

Lauren yawns again, rubbing at her eyes, brunette hair cascading down to just above her breasts, and Camila wonders how someone could be so beautiful when they’d just woken up. “I wouldn’t ever kick you out.”

“So that’s a yes to hanging out?” Camila asks, and Lauren yawns again, but nods in approval. “Okay. You know, it’s not healthy to pull all nighters to study. If I don’t know it by bedtime, then it’s just going to be a question I’ll miss.”

“Can’t do that,” Lauren shakes her head, “I have a scholarship and I don’t want to risk losing it. Anyway, what did you want to do?”

“I was going to see if you wanted to go for a walk and look at Christmas lights,” Camila says, “if there’s any up. But since you’re so tired, I think we should relax. Do you have any mini marshmallows? I could make us both some cocoa. Also, uh, Lucy requested a grilled cheese.”

Lauren snorts. “She can take her request and shove it up her ass.”

“Well, you’re pleasant when you’ve just woken up,” Camila chuckles, and thinks she knows what Keana meant by _she’d be a grouch if I woke her up_. “Do you want cocoa, though?”

“Yeah, but it’s my house, you’re the guest,” Lauren says, stifling another yawn. “Oh my god, we should totally put decorations up and drink hot chocolate and be festive.”

“Oh, thank _god_ ,” Camila breathes out an overdramatic – but justified – sigh of relief. “I was so worried you’d be a Grinch like Dinah.”

“No way. I love Christmas,” Lauren smiles, her gaze soft, and Camila wants to kiss her but Lauren speaks before she can. “You make me feel all… giddy inside. Kind of like the way you feel when you’re a kid and it’s Christmas Eve and you know Santa is coming. Except that feeling isn’t just for one night, it’s all the time.”

“Stop, you’ll make me blush,” Camila mumbles, “you’re- we’re- I just… you make me so happy.”

“That’s the game plan,” Lauren teases her, “anyway, would you kindly pass me my leg? I have a box of Christmas decorations in my bedroom that is of the utmost importance.”

Camila laughs at the phrase _pass me my leg_ , and grabs Lauren’s prosthetic from where it had fallen on the floor. “That’s something I never thought would be asked of me.”

Lauren takes the leg from her and doesn’t bother unscrewing the two halves like she’d done when she’d taken it off at Camila’s. Instead, she quickly pulls it on, mumbles something about how she’ll adjust it later, and stands up, grabbing the blanket she’d been cuddled up in and folding it up, throwing it over the back of the couch.

As she turns towards the door, Camila stands up and pulls her back by the hem of her jersey. “I didn’t realise this jersey was _yours_.”

“It is in my possession, so therefore it is mine,” Lauren recites, laughing a little, “haven’t you ever heard of finder’s keepers?”

“Well, obviously, but it has your name on the back,” Camila says, tracing over the _Jauregui_ with her forefinger, “Jauregui. Number five.”

“Not as popular as Chanel, but still pretty good,” Lauren jokes, and Camila snorts a little, letting go of the jersey as Lauren turns around. “It’s my old softball jersey. I told you I used to play.”

“That’s hot,” Camila blurts out, and it’s true, because even though she _detests_ sports, she likes girls who play them. Or _played_ , she guesses, since Lauren doesn’t anymore. “You know, I always had this fantasy in high school that I’d date one of the girls on a varsity team and I’d wear their letterman jacket.”

Lauren hums in thought as they climb the stairs, and she quickly pushes open her bedroom door, grabs a hoodie from the back of her desk chair, takes the jersey off, and puts the hoodie on. “I’ll wash that and then you can have it.”

Camila’s eyes widen in surprise, partially at the glimpse of Lauren’s toned abs and her cleavage in a sports bra, but she’s quick to shake her head. “No, Lauren, really, you don’t need to do that, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Maybe I like the idea of you in my jersey,” Lauren says, that soft, reserved smile toying at her lips. Camila’s stomach flutters at the sight. “Anyway. Mission one; Christmas decorations.”

Camila steps back as Lauren pulls open her closet and pulls out a huge box with tinsel poking out at the corners. “When you said a box, I didn’t know you meant you had _that_ much.”

“ _This_ is the tinsel and the lights and the baubles,” Lauren explains, before she pulls another box out, this one advertising an artificial Christmas tree. “I got this in the January sales in freshman year. I kept it stored in my dorm room and then stuck it in the storage thing Lucy and I decided to share when we went home for summer. We didn’t want to cart everything back to Miami with us and we couldn’t move into our last place until July. They all keep telling me to get rid of it because it takes up too much space, so as long as I keep it stored in my room for the rest of the year and put it up myself, they’re cool with it. _Grinches_.”

Camila laughs, “Well, you’re more dedicated than I am. Do you need me to carry anything?”

“I think the tree is heavier, so I’ll take that down and you can take the other box,” Lauren decides, and Camila nods, grabbing the box and following Lauren down the stairs. There’s a point where she almost drops it, and a massive box of Christmas is nearly dumped on Lauren’s head, but somehow she manages to keep it gripped in her hands.

As Lauren puts the box on the floor in the lounge, she turns to Camila with a smile, “mission _two_ ; cocoa.”

After a quick detour to the kitchen to make drinks, Lauren excuses herself to her bedroom and comes back in an obnoxiously bright red Christmas jumper. She still hasn’t changed out of her pyjama shorts, and the red clashes with the yellow badly, but neither of them care.

“Mission _three_ ,” Lauren announces, “put the tree up.”

Camila opens up the box and grabs the instructions, but Lauren grabs them from her hands and tosses them across the room. “Don’t you want the tree to look good?”

Lauren shakes her head. “The holidays aren’t about following rules, Mila.”

At the nickname, Camila crinkles up her nose in disgust. For everyone else, Mila is the norm, but it just sounds _wrong_ coming from Lauren. “That’s _Camz_ to you.”

“What’re you, the nickname police?” Lauren snickers, grabbing some of the branches out of the box and checking the coloured tags on them, setting them into separate piles. Camila copies her. “I thought everyone called you that?”

“Yes, which is exactly why you don’t,” Camila easily explains as Lauren slots the two main parts of the tree together. She finds the top, and puts that on too, so it’s like the top of a tree on a stick. Not exactly festive. “It’s like if Dinah called me _Camz_. It’s just weird. You call me Camz, everyone else calls me Mila.”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Lauren laughs at her, “the holidays aren’t about rules, _Camz_. They’re about reckless tree decoration and many hot cocoas. And Christmas movies, which incidentally, is mission four.”

Camila raises her eyebrows as Lauren not so subtly glances at the instructions to check which colour goes in the first set of slots. “And what’s mission five?”

“Oh, mission five is the most important of all,” Lauren prefaces, “honestly, the fate of the whole planet rests on its completion. The whole _universe,_ even.”

“Well, obviously we’ve got to do it then,” Camila jokes with her, “for the sake of humanity itself.”

“Mission five,” Lauren pauses for effect, “I take you out for a dinner and ice skating date tomorrow.”

At the word _ice skating_ , Camila is a little apprehensive, but the word _date_ makes everything okay, and there’s no way in hell she’s going to turn down a date with Lauren Jauregui. “Alright, but fair warning, I’m clumsy on regular ground, let alone _ice_.”

“Don’t worry,” Lauren smiles, reaching out and squeezing her hand comfortingly, “I’m actually a pretty good ice skater. It’s funny, because I sucked at it _before_ I lost my leg. But then I went a couple years back and it was weirdly easier. Now I make a point to go every year, so I’m damn good. Not a professional by any means, but I haven’t fallen for ages.”

“I wonder if that’s a thing,” Camila thinks out loud, “like, you’re going to be better at it than I am. Like how a blind person’s other senses are supposedly heightened.”

Lauren snorts. “I can see the professional study now; _leg amputees are better at ice skating than everyone else._ No, I think it’s probably just a _me_ _being a weirdo_ thing. But you’re definitely down to do it?”

“Of course,” Camila smiles, “If I’m being honest, I’m so relieved you asked. I’d been stressing about what to do for it because I guess I want to be really grand and romantic for you.”

“While I like grand and romantic,” Lauren answers, “I also like simple and heartfelt. And I think _Camila Cabello_ is all of those things wrapped up into a beautiful package with a cute little bow on it.”

Camila snickers, “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve looked at my old Instagram photos and seen the _bow_ phase.”

“I hadn’t, but that’s definitely on my to-do list for today,” Lauren laughs, “but in all fairness, if I did that, I’d let you watch my _X Factor_ audition.”

“I totally forgot about that,” Camila grins, “what song did you sing?”

“ _Bop to the Top,”_ Lauren jokes, slotting a branch into place on the Christmas tree. “ _If I Ain’t Got You_ by Alicia Keys. _Some people want it all, but I don’t want nothing at all, if it ain’t you, baby._ ”

At the thick, raspy tone, Camila basically melts. “Oh my god. You’re amazing.”

Lauren blushes, ducking her head to hide her smile, “Tanks, nugget.”

Camila’s stomach flips and her heart is so warm at just how _fucking cute_ she is. “Can I just- you’re so cute.”

Lauren smiles. “I do my best.”

As Lauren stands up and fixes the last set of branches onto the tree, Camila stares up at her, and knows she’s powerless; she’s not going to be able to stop herself from falling for this woman, but if she’s being honest, she doesn’t think she _wants_ to.

-

**3/12/16**

“I just don’t get how you’re so attractive.”

Lauren looks up in surprise at the words, glancing over her menu at Camila. Granted, for the whole subway ride to the restaurant Lauren had picked, Camila had been jittery, but she didn’t think she looked _that_ good. She’d told Camila that the dress code was casual, because they’re going _ice skating_ after this, and she doesn’t think long flowy dresses would make sense in that context, so Lauren had worn a pair of ripped black jeans and a band tee, with her leather jacket thrown over the top. Naturally, in an outfit like that, she doesn’t feel like she’s done much to warrant a compliment; she’d barely even bothered with her makeup.

“Well… thank you,” Lauren sends her a bashful smile, “I think you’re pretty damn gorgeous yourself.”

It’s not a lie; if she’s being completely honest, Camila’s beauty had intimidated her when they’d first met. Well, that, and the fact that she’d spilled scalding hot coffee all over the poor girl.

“No, but I mean,” Camila looks up at her, “you’re just like… impossibly beautiful.”

Lauren blushes. “Dammit, Camz, you’re completely destroying my cool and casual façade right about now.”

“I wish I could be profound and dramatic and reel off this monologue about how I feel about you, but for a student with half her major in literature, I’m really not good with words, and I don’t think I could come up with anything that _really_ conveys how I feel about you on the fly,” Camila sighs, resting her head on her hand and looking over at Lauren, “but I will say this; you are genuinely the most amazing human I’ve ever met.”

Lauren looks over at her, and brown meets green in a moment of complete intimacy. “You’re really something else, Camz.”

“A good something else?” Camila asks, and Lauren bobs her head in confirmation. “Perfect. Anyway, have you figured out what you want to order? I know what I want. I know it sounds so dumb, but I like knowing what I want before I even get to the restaurant, so I might’ve looked at a PDF of the menu.”

Lauren laughs. “That’s cute. Most of the time I just hope they have something I like. If I’m being honest, I’ve been looking at the picture of the bacon cheeseburger this entire time.”

Camila grins. “Are you actually my soulmate? You have _damn_ good taste.”

Lauren blushes, and at the word _soulmate_ , her stomach flutters and her heart rate quickens. Unfortunately, she doesn’t get a chance to comment on it, as the waiter comes over and takes their orders, and the moment has passed, so she easily switches topics as Camila immediately blows out the candle the waiter lights. “So, um… how was staying at the non-festive hell hole last night?”

Camila laughs, “Well, Dinah made fun of me when I started to watch _Love, Actually_ , and accused me of turning into a big cheesy sap because I have a crush on you.”

“She seems like more of a _The Grinch_ fan.” Lauren muses. “But _not_ the shitty full-length with Taylor Momsen. The cartoon one. _Home Alone_ is also pretty bomb.”

Camila sends her a sheepish smile, playing with her fork. “I actually, um… haven’t seen it.”

“ _What_ ,” Lauren stares at her with wide eyes, “what the fuck did you just say?”

“Yeah. I don’t know, the kid has always just kind of… creeped me out. And I know what happens,” Camila shrugs, “so there’s no point in-”

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Lauren turns around and grabs her coat, “I can’t date someone who hasn’t seen _Home Alone_.”

Camila reaches over and takes her by the wrist, and even though Lauren was only joking, the younger girl actually looks a little worried. “Well, we could watch it together some time? Like, after finals, when we’re back in Miami?”

Lauren’s stomach flutters at the idea of seeing Camila over Christmas break. “Yeah. I’d like that. You don’t _have_ to watch it if you don’t want to, though. I’m only messing around.”

“I know,” Camila smiles, “but I’ll watch it with you. Do you have any like, important family things on Christmas Eve, during the day? Because we could watch it then. And a few other movies. Just have a chill day of festivity and hot chocolate and snuggles.”

“I’m so down for that,” Lauren grins, “and no, we don’t do anything until the evening. I help my mom in the kitchen, and I’ve always been allowed to open one present. When I was a kid, my mom said ‘Santa brought this early’.”

Camila hums. “How old were you when you stopped believing?”

Lauren makes herself look shocked. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, Santa,” Camila says nonchalantly, not catching on, “I was embarrassingly old. Like, literally twelve. My parents probably thought I was so dumb.”

“ _What_?” Lauren pushes down the laughter in her chest and forces herself to look positively horrified. “Santa isn’t real?”

“I-” Camila blinks in surprise, looking genuinely concerned, “you’re not serious, are you?”

After a few more seconds of maintaining the horrified look, Lauren bursts out laughing. “No, of course I’m not serious. But it’s cute that you believed for so long. I was nine, which is still pretty old, considering my little sister clocked it when she was seven.”

“Did you have any cute little traditions?” Camila asks. “I had some weird rituals when I was a child that I _had_ to complete.”

“Same,” Lauren laughs, but the past tense isn’t exactly necessary, because she still does some of this stuff now. “I have specific Christmas specials I always watch. Some of which are still accurate. And I like helping my mom with the cooking, which has been a thing I’ve done since I was like, thirteen. _And_ a newer tradition is my need for mulled wine. My dad let me have a glass of it for the first time… I think it was Christmas 2013. My mom flipped. It was funny.”

Camila snorts. “Why, because you were drunk off _one glass_? Then again, you _were_ a pretty big lightweight that night we were clubbing, so I’m not surprised.”

Lauren chuckles. “Yeah, she freaked out because apparently three percent of cancers are caused by alcohol. I don’t know if that’s a legit statistic because she probably got it off google.”

Camila cringes. “She searches that stuff up? I doubt it’s right, one time I had an aggressive cold and google was just like _you’re going to die of the bubonic plague_ , so I don’t think you can trust what you read on the internet.”

“Sometimes I worry about her, because I think it’s probably some kind of anxiety disorder,” Lauren bites down on her bottom lip as she thinks, before she grabs her glass of water and takes a sip. “My point is, when you meet her, please maintain that I’ve never ever been drunk before in my life.”

Camila smiles. “Will do. I’ll make myself out to be the best influence ever. And, I mean, I am kind of a nerd, so most parents love me.”

“I already know my dad will adore you,” Lauren comments, because while her mom isn’t likely to like any stranger Lauren brings home, her dad is relaxed and just wants to see her happy. In fact, Lauren is planning on bringing Camila over for the first time while her mom is out of the house, because she doesn’t want the younger girl’s first impression of her family to be _did you know that 15,000 people under the age of nineteen were diagnosed with cancer this year_?

“How old are your siblings, again?” Camila asks. “You’ve mentioned them before, but I can’t remember if you told me their ages.”

“Chris is two years younger than me, so he’s eighteen. He just started college, actually. Got an athletic scholarship for his basketball.” Lauren smiles, and hopes she looks proud, because she really is happy for him. She _had_ felt ridiculously old, standing there watching at his graduation in the summer. “And Taylor is fifteen right now.”

“So you’re all pretty close in age,” Camila states, “is that cool? Like, do you get along, or does it just cause more fights?”

“There’s always going to be the fight for the TV remote, or for the last slice of pizza,” Lauren smiles wistfully at memories of past arguments, “but for the most part, we get along. Chris is an idiot sometimes, and Taylor can be a brat, but we have each other’s backs.”

Camila laughs. “They probably think you’re a brat, too.”

Lauren scoffs. “Me? No, I’m perfect. Honestly, I don’t know why my parents bothered having more kids when they practically won the child lottery the first time.”

“Come on, you _had_ to have had your bitchy teenager phase,” Camila tries coercing her, “I know I did. I was a little shit from like, age twelve to fourteen.”

“No, but I _did_ have my emo phase,” Lauren chuckles at the memory, “never really left it, if I’m being honest. I was actually thinking about dyeing my hair black.”

“I don’t know if you’re joking, but it’d be _really_ hot if you did,” Camila’s gaze rakes over her hair, which Lauren had straightened for the evening. Usually, she just lets it stay wavy, like it is naturally, but she’d wanted to make the effort with _that_ for Camila. “For real, I’m kind of obsessed with your hair.”

Lauren smiles. “Tanks, nugget. You’re sweet. And I don’t know, I’ve wanted to do it for a while and I’ve just been thinking it over.”

If anything, Camila’s grin gets wider. “You should definitely dye it black. How come you haven’t done it before?”

“I wanted to let it grow back as healthily as possible, you know. After I lost it.” Lauren shifts uncomfortably. “Didn’t really want to throw a bunch of chemicals at it, but it’s still not where it was, and I’m not sure it ever will be since it’s been three years, so I guess I might as well just go ahead and do it.”

“I like the length it is now,” Camila comments, resting her chin on her hand. Self-consciously, Lauren runs a hand through it, one of her nervous ticks. “Like… I guess _armpit_ length? I don’t know, but it’s like, messy and fluffy and any time we cuddle I’m so tempted to play with it.”

“I like it when people do that, so feel free,” Lauren flashes her a small smile. “To be honest, when we met for coffee, I was kind of jealous of your hair.”

“You’re cute,” Camila smiles, reaching her hand across the table and putting it on top of Lauren’s. Lauren sucks in a breath at the sparks she feels. “So, _so_ fucking cute.”

Lauren opens her mouth to speak, to tell Camila that she doesn’t know _why_ but she feels like they were meant for each other or something, but _thankfully_ , the waiter comes over with their food and she swallows the words. It was stupid, anyway. She needs to remember that this is their _second_ date. They’re still new at this and she shouldn’t be weird about it.

She digs into her burger, and Camila does the same, and for a while they’re silent, enjoying each other’s presence, until Camila has the bright idea to eavesdrop on their neighbouring tables’ conversations. It’s all fun and games until they hear an asshole guy get rejected on what’s obviously a first date, and Lauren nearly chokes on a French fry at his attempt to assure the woman that _he wasn’t even into her anyway._

Once they’ve finished their meal, Lauren _excuses herself to the bathroom_ , but actually pays the bill for their table, and doesn’t tell Camila until they’re walking out of the restaurant and she frowns and says, “wait, but we didn’t pay.”

Lauren laughs, pulling the card receipt out of her pocket. “I did. And before you argue, I’m paying for the ice skating as well.”

The restaurant is only a short walk from the Rockefeller skating rink, and Lauren makes sure to hold the door open for Camila as they leave. She’s hoping to take Camila’s hand subtly, but the younger girl just turns to her, holding out her hand, “don’t forget we’re on a _date_ here, Jauregui. Hold my hand or I’ll punch you.”

Lauren holds her hand up in surrender, “okay, okay, no need to resort to violence. _Damn_.”

“From this point on, you’ve got to hold my hand at all times,” Camila announces, “because I’m _definitely_ going to need the support on the ice.”

“Don’t worry,” Lauren squeezes the younger girl’s hand. “I’ll protect you.”

“I hope it snows soon,” Camila comments, swinging their hands as they walk down the street, “I want to make a snowman with you the _first_ day it snows. I don’t care if I have a final. Snowmen are infinitely more important.”

Lauren laughs. “I think your parents would disagree.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “No need to be a buzzkill. I guess I’ll ask Ally to make a snowman with me instead.”

Lauren pouts. “Now you’re just being mean. Of course I want to make a snowman with you. _And_ build an igloo. One time when I was like six or seven, my dad, Chris and I made an igloo in the back yard. It was probably only small, because we were kids, but it _felt_ like we’d built this huge castle out of ice.”

“I always found that strange, how your perception changes when you grow. Like, it’s probably physical growth, right?” Camila questions, mostly to herself. “My elementary school was _huge_ to me when I first started, but now if I look at it, it’s tiny. Everything used to seem so huge and… and _fascinating_ when you’re a kid.”

“It’s probably because when you’re a kid, your world is basically just you and your parents,” Lauren shrugs, “school _would_ seem huge if you’re just used to being around two people.”

Camila hums. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s the same with me for college. All of these new people, sharing a room, stuff like that. Finally being _an adult_. Or, like, an adult in _training._ ”

“Definitely in training,” Lauren smiles a little, “can’t deal with the idea of being an actual _real_ adult once I graduate. It’s like… kind of why I want to do a post-graduate thing. Just so I can avoid adulthood for a little longer.”

“Big mood, but I’m not smart enough to do that,” Camila replies, before they see the line for the ice skating and she pouts. “You’d better look after me, and with your track record, I’m a little worried.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “They were _accidents_ , Camz. Besides, I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t think I’d be able to look after you. You’ll be _fine_.”

“Alright,” Camila murmurs, “but if I fall down, I’m taking _you_ with me.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” Lauren chuckles, squeezing her hand. “So, Camz. Tell me something.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Something?”

“Yeah. Something that you don’t normally tell people,” Lauren comments, humming in thought. “Something interesting.”

“Um… when I was little, I had this poster of the Power Rangers on my wall,” Camila says, “and it’s already pretty gay that I liked Power Rangers instead of like, Barbie or whatever. But every night, I would kiss the yellow ranger before I went to sleep.”

Lauren snorts. “How old were you?”

“Oh, only like _seven_ ,” Camila quickly assures her, “but even when I was younger, I never really liked boys. Then I hit like, preteen ages, realised I wasn’t _supposed_ to like girls, and went through this huge _look how straight I am_ phase to fit in at school but then people made fun of me anyway. And because I’d been so obviously gay as a child, one night my mom came into my room and we had this talk, and she basically told me that she’d love me no matter what, and I should feel the same way about myself, so I just… tried not to care anymore. I wasn’t super open about it, and I didn’t prance around school announcing how gay I am, but I also didn’t bury it.”

“Clearly you were a much smarter kid than me,” Lauren snorts with laughter at how repressed she was, “I didn’t even _realise_ until I was fifteen, and then I pushed it all down and refused to accept it, and figured that because I was bi, I could easily just focus on the attraction I had to guys and ignore that other side. And then _naturally_ , I developed a crush on my best friend.”

Camila hums. “Yeah, you mentioned that you and Lucy dated.”

“It’s really weird to look back on, because the idea of dating her _now_ kind of grosses me out,” Lauren chuckles, before she realises what she’s said and how that might sound a little mean. “Not that she’s not pretty or anything, because she _really_ is, but we definitely work better as friends.”

Camila hums. “That’s why you broke up?”

“That, and I wasn’t exactly ready to be anybody’s girlfriend. I didn’t know _how_ to be that,” Lauren shrugs, “I wasn’t in the best headspace and Lucy didn’t want to take advantage of me and how bad I was feeling, so we broke it off after around… four months? We said we’d try it again if it felt right, but… it never did. And then she met Vero like a year later when we started college, so…”

“Were you upset?” Camila asks, and Lauren understands why she’s asking so many questions; she’d feel a little uneasy if she’d found out Camila had dated one of her closest friends in the past. “You know, when she started dating someone else?”

“Not really, no. By that point we both knew nothing was going to happen between us in that capacity,” Lauren shrugs, “I mean, it was a little sad, because I guess a part of me was kind of clinging to the fact that she was my first kiss, first love, first… _everything_ , but the part that had already moved on was bigger, I guess. I casually dated a guy for a little while, but he turned out to be an immature asshole who cheated, then there was creepy fetish guy, then an almost-fling with a guy I met at a club, then you.”

“Hopefully that’ll be it,” Camila murmurs, swinging their hands as they reach the front of the line for ice skating. Before Lauren can comment, Camila stops addresses the ticket guy. “Two for skating. I’m a size six and a half, and she’s…”

Lauren digs her money out of her pocket and passes it to the guy before Camila can jump in and pay. “I’ll take a nine.”

The guy passes Lauren her skates and change, and Camila follows her towards the benches just outside the rink. “You’re a size _nine_?”

“Nope, I’m an eight, but I figured I should get a size up, because a lot of the time they’re pretty tight,” Lauren answers, taking her shoes off and opening up one of the free lockers, sticking a quarter inside. “Put your shoes in there.”

“Okay,” Camila puts her shoes away as Lauren gets her skates on. It’s a little fiddly, and it’s especially hard to walk on the ground to the entrance of the rink, but she holds Camila’s hand and they stay steady. Lauren is the first onto the ice, and Camila watches her apprehensively. “I’m not sure about this.”

Lauren holds her arm out. “Trust me.”

After a few moments of obvious debate, Camila nods, and awkwardly waddles onto the ice. Immediately, she almost slips, and Lauren wraps a supportive arm around her waist. “This isn’t going to go well.”

“I’ve got you, okay?” Lauren assures her, keeping a firm grip around Camila’s waist. She’s never skated while supporting someone else, but she’s not _so_ bad at it, so she thinks they’ll be fine. “Let’s try a lap.”

Camila still looks apprehensive, and Lauren starts them off slowly. “I’m so shaky.”

“You’re fine,” Lauren assures her, picking up the pace a little, “just copy what I’m doing, alright? I’m going to pick up the pace a little.”

Camila’s eyes almost pop out of her skull, they widen that much. It’s rather comical, but Lauren is more focused on the beautiful colour. She’s always loved brown eyes, but she especially adores the way Camila’s turn into beautiful pools of honey when the light hits them, how she can see the flecks of gold that are hidden there in the dark, and how bright they get when she’s happy.

Lauren loves brown eyes, but she loves Camila’s the most.

“Are you _crazy_?” Camila snaps her out of her daydream. “We can’t go faster, I can barely handle _this_ speed.”

Lauren laughs lightly. “It’s actually easier if you go fast. I promise.”

“That doesn’t seem factual,” Camila slips again, and Lauren really _is_ reminded of a young Bambi. “Oh god, I can’t do this.”

“Yes you can,” Lauren assures her, carefully switching Camila to her left side and moving them closer to the side of the rink. “There. If you feel like you’re going to slip, take hold of the barrier.”

Camila grips onto Lauren for dear life as she starts moving faster, and they’ve almost done a lap completely unscathed when Camila knocks one foot out from under the other and topples backwards. Lauren can feel herself falling, and she tries to maintain their balance, but ends up following Camila down to the ice and hitting it with a _thud_. She feels an aching pain in her hip as she comes in contact with the ice, and she knows it’s going to be a bruise tomorrow, but it doesn’t hurt that much and it’s so easy to laugh it off.

“Sorry,” Camila groans, pushing herself up with her hands. “My fault.”

“I don’t even know how you did that,” Lauren laughs to herself, watching as Camila pushes herself back up with the help of the barrier to her left. The younger Latina keeps one hand gripped to the side of the rink, and holds the other out for Lauren to take. Lauren grabs it, and pushes herself up. “Thanks.”

She joins Camila at the side of the rink, and follows her gaze upwards, looking at the stars with her. They stay in a comfortable silence, Camila gripping the side of the rink tensely, like she’s going to fall over again if she lets go, before the younger Latina looks over at her. “You know, I went through this phase of wanting to be an astronaut.”

Lauren hums in thought, trying to imagine Camila up in space, among the stars. Surely, they’d be greater peers for her than the rest of the ordinary people at college with them, because Camila shines just as brightly. “What changed your mind?”

“Well, I’m not exactly the most scientific person on the planet. I was only young, like thirteen, and I just wanted to get as far away from everything as I could. And on nights when I felt the most lonely, I’d look up at the moon and the stars and wonder if there was anything greater out there,” Camila shrugs, looking back up at the dark sky, “but then things got easier, and now I know for a fact that there’s nothing greater up there, because I’ve already met the greatest thing.”

Camila turns at fixes Lauren with a soft smile, the corners of her mouth tilted up slightly, and those beautiful eyes shining with so much adoration that it makes Lauren’s stomach flutter and her heart jump. She wonders if there’s ever been anyone as beautiful on this planet before, and while she’s thinking, the words just tumble out of Lauren’s mouth. “Be my girlfriend.”

Camila looks up in surprise, like she can’t believe what she’s heard. “What?”

“Be my girlfriend,” Lauren repeats, trying to convey an air of confidence, like she’d _totally meant_ for the words to fall out. “You know. If you want to be.”

Camila seems to realise she’s heard the right words, and she lets out a laugh, but it’s a little shakier than usual. Lauren’s heart drops. Maybe she’d only been looking for something casual? Or maybe she’d realised she didn’t feel the same way. Maybe she wasn’t attracted to her anymore. Maybe she’d only been going on dates with her because she felt _bad_ , felt like she couldn’t say _no_ , and—

“Dammit, Lauren, that was supposed to be _my_ line,” Camila gives her a playful nudge with her shoulder, still clinging to the side of the rink. “I’m the top here; I’m supposed to ask _you_ to be mine.”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip to hide her smile. “Is that a yes?”

“I should just say no and then ask you myself,” Camila muses, but turns and grins at her, “but for the sake of being cooperative, yes. I would be unbelievably honoured to be your girlfriend.”

Lauren’s stomach flips, and even though she knows Camila is clinging to the side of the rink for dear life, she pries one of her hands from it, takes it in her own, and leans in to give her an innocent kiss on the cheek. “Good. That’s… good.”

“No need to be so bashful,” Camila beams, “although it _is_ pretty fucking adorable.”

Lauren ducks her head to hide her smile and gives Camila a small tug by the hand. “Come on. Let’s… let’s get you home.”

Camila awkwardly walks on her skates, nearly slipping over, and Lauren guides her over, wrapping a steady arm around her waist and helping her off the rink. They sit down on the benches provided and slowly take their skates off, Lauren glancing over at Camila at any moment she can and admiring her beauty.

Camila slips her shoes on and shuffles a little closer to Lauren while she’s still working on getting the left skate off. “Need help?”

Normally, that question makes Lauren bristle and snap, but she quickly nods. “Um, yeah, actually. Can you help me get the laces looser? They’re really tight and my fingers are numb from the cold.”

Camila smiles, nodding, and quickly presses her lips to Lauren’s cheek before she helps loosen up the laces and Lauren pulls the skate off. “You know, I’m totally going to be that girl who treats you like a princess.”

Lauren looks at Camila, and she seems genuine. “Yeah?”

“Yep,” Camila announces, before a full frontal grin blooms on her face, “oh my god, you’re my girlfriend.”

“I am,” Lauren nods, laughing a little as she laces up her sneakers, “did it just hit you?”

“Yeah, I think it did,” Camila laughs, standing up and holding out a hand for Lauren to take, “I guess it’s just hard to believe that the most beautiful girl in the world is _mine_. I really am _killing_ it, huh?”

Lauren smiles to herself, and squeezes Camila’s hand, knowing that _she’s_ definitely the lucky one.

-

**20/12/16**

“So, um, I’m trying to act like I’m not incredibly nervous,” Lauren announces as she grabs her suitcase from the luggage carousel. “I told my dad to come by himself, but I don’t know if my mom hijacked that or not. I’m just not sure about letting you meet her straight away in case she’s…aggressive.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “What, she’s going to beat me up? Because I’m pretty sure I could take her.”

“No, no, but I don’t want her to freak you out,” Lauren quickly explains, “like, you’ll make a joke or something, and she’ll bombard you with statistics about how if you let me eat… I don’t know, _shrimp_ or something, that I’m going to drop dead.”

Camila frowns. “You don’t think she’ll like me?”

“I don’t think she’ll like anyone I date,” Lauren sighs, running a hand through her hair, and Camila has picked up on that as one of her nervous ticks. She finds it adorable. “But I’m going to do what I can to make her see how happy you make me.”

Camila hums, struggling to get her own suitcase from the carousel. Lauren helps her haul it off. “But your dad will like me?”

“Yes,” Lauren assures her, “that much I can guarantee.”

As they make their way out of the arrivals gate, their suitcases rolling behind them, Lauren glances around for her father. Camila had assured her parents that she didn’t need to be picked up from the airport, which was perfect for them, as her dad had the car for work. She hopes Lauren’s mother isn’t there, because the last time, she didn’t even get to give Lauren a goodbye hug.

“Oh, thank god,” Lauren breathes out a sigh of relief, and takes Camila by the hand, pulling both her and her suitcase behind her as she heads over to her father. She drops Camila’s hand as they approach, and throws her arms around her dad. “Hi, dad. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” her dad hugs her tightly, before letting her go and taking her suitcase. He looks over at Camila and sends her a welcoming smile, and almost immediately, she feels a little less nervous. “This is the friend you flew back with?”

“Um, yeah, about that,” Lauren takes Camila’s hand again, and not breaking eye contact with her dad, she announces, “this is Camila. She’s my girlfriend. Camz, this is my dad.”

“Just Mike,” He smiles, and shakes Camila’s free hand, “you’d better treat my little girl right.”

“I will,” Camila quickly promises, “it’s- um, really nice to meet you, by the way. And thank you in advance for the ride home.”

“It’s no problem,” Mike assures her, before he starts tugging Lauren’s case, and Camila quickly follows. “I just pulled up out front. I wasn’t supposed to, but we should be fine. We’ve done it before and we can easily pull the disabled card if we’re caught.”

“ _Dad_ ,” Lauren rolls her eyes, easily cutting behind Camila and swiping her case from her, pulling it along, sticking her tongue out at the younger girl, “only I’m allowed to use it for my advantage, otherwise it’s _wrong_.”

Camila takes her case back from Lauren, regretting the decision to wear a sweater, because compared to what she’s been used to up at college, it’s _boiling_ in Miami. “Have you ever actually used it to get out of trouble?”

“I don’t get _into_ trouble, I’m a child of god,” Lauren teases her, rolling her eyes, and going to grab the handle of Camila’s case again, “let me prove it by taking your case for you in this last six feet of walking to the car.”

“No, it’s my case, carry your own,” Camila shoots back, because she _really_ doesn’t want to look like she’s burdening Mike’s _disabled daughter_ with her luggage. No, she said she’d treat Lauren right, and while she _ordinarily_ wouldn’t care, she wants to look good for the parents.

Lauren seems to sense this, because she raises her eyebrows as if to say _really_ , _bitch_ , and opens her mouth to expose her, but Camila easily announces, “Oh, look, we’re at the car now, too late,” as Mike unlocks it and pops the trunk.

Lauren sends her a knowing smile, helping her lift it into the back, before she opens up the door to the front seat. Lowering her voice, she murmurs, “you know you don’t need to do stuff like that in front of my dad, right? He won’t care if I carry your case. He’s not the psycho.”

Overhearing them, Mike sends Lauren an attempt at a stern look, but it’s obvious he’s fighting a smile. “Lauren, don’t call your mother a psycho.”

Lauren rolls her eyes and sends him a petulant pout. “ _Fine_.”

As she gets in the car, Camila smiles to herself, happy that Lauren has a healthy relationship with at least _one_ of her parents. Lauren pauses as she goes to get in the front seat, then seems to change her mind, clambering into the back next to Camila.

“You didn’t have to get in here with me,” Camila tells her, frowning as Lauren leans forward to grab the aux cord from the front and plug it into her phone. “You could’ve sat up front.”

“Yeah, but I felt bad just leaving you in the back like a loser,” Lauren teases her, before passing her phone to Camila, open on her Spotify. “Pick a song.”

Camila hums in thought as she scrolls through Lauren’s saved music. “You have a very extensive collection.”

Lauren smiles. “I like all kinds of stuff. I’m a firm believer that you can find good music in any genre. Except for country.”

Camila looks up from the phone, smirking in victory. “Early Taylor Swift. Take _that_.”

“Fine, fine,” Lauren holds her hands up in surrender, “now pick a song or I’ll do it myself.”

Camila turns back to the phone and takes a look at the playlists, blinking in surprise when she sees one labelled _Camz_. “You made a playlist and called it _Camz_?”

Lauren flushes embarrassedly. “Um, yeah. But don’t open it, because it’s not finished yet.”

Camila nods, but she wasn’t going to anyway; a playlist made about her by her girlfriend seems a little too intimate to listen to for the first time around said girlfriend’s father. She settles on a cheesy pop song, and passes the phone back to Lauren, easily changing the subject. “So, um, am I seeing you on Christmas Eve? During the day?”

“Yeah,” Lauren smiles, “your place or mine?”

“Yours?” Camila asks, wondering if it’s okay, or if Lauren’s going to say no, but the older Latina just nods in approval. “I’ll come over in the morning and then we’ll have all day to watch some Christmas movies until I need to go home at dinnertime force my sister to write a letter to Santa. She doesn’t believe, but I still make her go see him because _I_ want to see him.”

Lauren laughs. “Yeah, that _would_ be an advantage to having a really little sibling. I think Tay would punch me if I tried to make her go see Santa, but she’s totally in her _too cool_ phase right now.”

Camila hums in thought, wondering if Sofi will ever go through a phase like that. Obviously, she will; she’s going to turn into a typical teenager at some point, and Camila promises herself she’ll try not to take it personally when her little sister stops wanting to spend time with her. “So she basically avoids her embarrassing older sister?”

Lauren lets out a dramatic scoff. “I resent being called _embarrassing._ ”

“I mean, you’re not, but I can see why your fifteen year old sister would think you are, Mrs _High School Musical_.” Camila teases her. “If anyone’s mean to her at school, she’d threaten them with your _brother_ , not you.”

“Hey, I’m a _badass_ ,” Lauren rolls her eyes, flexing her bicep. “Everyone fears these guns. _And_ I always win the battle for the TV remote.”

Mike laughs from the driver’s seat. “You win that battle because you grab the remote before they can and then point at your leg and pout when they try to take it off you.”

Lauren sighs dramatically. “Details, details.”

Camila just smiles at her. “You’ll never have to fight me for the TV remote because I don’t watch TV. Not like, proper TV. Just Netflix.”

“That’s better, because there’s no ads,” Lauren says, “nothing I hate more than ads. So fucking boring.”

“Lauren, _language_ ,” Mike chastises her, and Lauren rolls her eyes, making Camila laugh. “Don’t let your mother hear you saying things like that.”

“Yeah, she’ll probably invent a statistic about how swearing causes cancer,” Lauren snorts, before she takes Camila’s hand in the darkness of the back seat as the younger girl chuckles at her joke. “It’s cute that you think I’m kidding, Camz.”

Camila just smiles, squeezing Lauren’s hand. “You know you can come over at any point if…”

She wants to say _if you feel stifled by your family_ , but her dad is sitting _right there_ , and Camila doesn’t want to offend, so she trails off. Lauren just smiles at her. “If my family get annoying? Yeah, I’ll see you later tonight.”

Mike laughs. “We’re never annoying, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Get back to me on that after the inevitable family fun tonight,” Lauren shoots back, before she looks back at Camila, “I’ll definitely see you on Christmas Eve. What’re you doing for New Year’s?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Camila laughs, “you know I don’t really like parties, and it’s not like I’m back at college for it. Dinah and Normani are going back early specifically for a party. Mostly I just hang out with my family over at my abuela’s house. She cooks dinner and we stay up and see the new year in together.”

“That’s cute,” Lauren comments, “I guess since you’re busy, I’ll call Lucy see-”

Camila frowns. “I’m not busy.”

“But you just said you were with family,” Lauren points out, laughing at her, “make your mind up, babe.”

At the pet name, Camila’s insides squirm, and she’s not sure Mike would want to hear something like that from his daughter. “You want to do something with me?”

“Yeah,” Lauren smiles, “we don’t have to do anything big. We could just chill out and watch the ball drop on TV.”

“Yeah, sure,” Camila beams at her, because is this actually going to be her first New Year’s kiss? “We’ll organise it closer to the day.”

Lauren nods. “After Christmas. I’m actually going to look forward to driving you home on Christmas Eve, because we can take a detour and look at decorations. It’s one of my traditions. Got to go for a drive and look at lights.”

As they turn on to Camila’s street, she pouts. She’s been looking forward to seeing her family, but she doesn’t want to say goodbye to Lauren. Nevertheless, when Mike asks which house it is, Camila tells him, and they pull up outside. She sends Lauren a small smile, and she really wants to kiss her, but she doesn’t feel comfortable doing that in front of Mike.

Lauren speaks before she can. “Let me walk you to the door.”

They get out of the car, and Lauren helps her with her case, but Camila still insists on pulling her case herself. Lauren just smiles fondly at her persistence, and takes her hand, walking her up to the front door.

“So, um, I’ll see you on Christmas Eve,” Camila murmurs. “And then New Year’s.”

“Mhm,” Lauren’s gaze flicks down to her lips, and her hand cups Camila’s jawline gently, “can I kiss you goodnight?”

Camila swallows the lump in her throat. “Yeah.”

Slowly, Lauren leans in, guiding Camila with the hand on her jaw, and gives her a soft, innocent kiss on the lips. She doesn’t deepen it; probably because there are parents close, and pulls away after a few seconds, thumb grazing the younger Latina’s cheek, and murmurs, “I’ll see you in a couple of days, okay?”

“Yeah,” Camila murmurs, pulling her back and wrapping her in a tight hug before she can walk away. “I’ll see you.”

Lauren smiles, burying her face into Camila’s neck and melting into the hug. Camila wishes she could stay like this forever, holding Lauren in her arms, but it only lasts for a few sweet seconds before the older girl pulls away. “Later, Camz.”

She leans in and kisses her cheek, before she heads back to the car, getting in the front this time. Camila fumbles with her house key in her back pocket, and pushes open the door, dragging her suitcase inside and watching as the car’s taillights disappear down the road before her mother wraps her in a hug.

-

**24/12/16**

Lauren blinks, groaning when she feels the hands shaking her. “Mph… mom, go away.”

The laugh that follows is definitely not her mother’s. “I mean, I prefer being called _daddy_ , but sure.”

Lauren rubs at her eyes with her fists before she pushes herself into a sitting position. “Camz? What’re you doing here?”

“It’s Christmas Eve!” Camila announces, getting herself comfortable next to Lauren. “Which means _we’ve_ got some festive tasks to complete. I texted to let you know I was coming over, but...”

Lauren narrows her eyes, still a little groggy. “Sorry. Didn’t get much sleep last night. I was tossing and turning a lot. You didn’t run into my mom on the way up, did you?”

“No,” Camila shakes her head, “your dad answered the door and told me your mom was out doing some last minute shopping.”

“Okay,” Lauren relaxes, resting her head on Camila’s shoulder. “Cuddle me.”

Camila smiles, kissing the top of Lauren’s head. Her hands wrap securely around Lauren’s waist, and they lay back down under the covers together. Lauren just smiles, snuggling her face into Camila’s neck.

Camila traces patterns across the bare skin of Lauren’s midriff where her t-shirt has ridden up. “I can’t wait for tomorrow. And tonight. Eating my body weight in my mom’s food is my favourite activity. I’m _not_ looking forward to the 26th, when I have to eat _leftovers_.”

Lauren hums happily. “Same. So, what’re the festive activities of the day?”

“Watching an aggressive amount of Christmas movies, and I’m going to let you introduce me to _Home_ _Alone_ ,” Camila laughs, “and I plan on drinking way too much cocoa. We could have eggnog if you want to day drink, but I think it’s kind of gross.”

“Same here,” Lauren agrees with her, taking Camila’s hand and playing with her fingers. “What else do you have planned?”

“Nothing, really. I should get home by dinnertime, so I can get my little sister hyped about Santa,” Camila comments, “ _oh_ , and I’ve got to give you your present. Duh.”

Lauren smiles. “Only if I get to give you yours.”

“Aw, you didn’t need to buy me anything,” Camila kisses her forehead, “you being my girlfriend is present enough.”

Lauren snorts. “Are you always this cheesy?”

“Only if I like you. And I _do_ like you,” Camila teases her, “anyway, what Christmas movies do you want to watch? _Elf_ is a must, and _A Christmas Carol_ , but anything else is fair game.”

“ _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ ,” Lauren decides, “and _Home Alone_ , obviously. Maybe cheesy Christmas specials from TV shows? When I was younger I’d always watch the _Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends_ ’ Christmas episode.”

“I’m down for all of that,” Camila answers, and regretfully pulls away from Lauren and stands up. She turns around and bends over, and Lauren definitely appreciates the view. “Climb on. I’ll piggy-back you to the couch. Unless you want to stay in bed all day?”

Lauren raises her eyebrows. “You don’t need to carry me anywhere. I have a prosthetic for a reason, babe.”

“I know, I just want to be chivalrous and take care of you and make sure you’re comfortable, and you said your prosthetic wasn’t comfortable when you stayed over at my place at Thanksgiving,” Camila admits, shrugging. Lauren just laughs, and pulls her back down to the bed, practically draping herself over the other girl and pinning her down. “You’re feeling cuddly?”

“Mhm. I wanna sleep more,” Lauren grumbles, getting herself comfortable with her girl. “It’s too early for me.”

“It’s like, eleven,” Camila laughs, “but I guess we could stay in bed.”

“Mmm, thank you,” Lauren smiles, pulling her back down. She makes sure Nala is cuddled to her chest, before she snuggles up against Camila, resting her head on the younger girl’s shoulder. “Grab my laptop.”

Camila reaches down and gets Lauren’s laptop from where she left it by her bed last night, and opens it up, letting it rest on her stomach. One handed, Lauren types in her password, and opens her browser, getting Netflix up. “Are there any good Christmas movies on Netflix?”

“I don’t know,” Lauren shrugs, “but I _do_ know that _Elf_ is on Amazon Prime, and I have that, so…”

Camila quickly redirects them to Amazon, and searches the movie up, pressing play. Lauren smiles, and snuggles up to Camila, listening to her heartbeat through her chest and feeling the slow rise and fall of her chest. She sighs happily, not really paying much attention to the movie as it plays, and closes her eyes, feeling so comfortable and happy and feeling like she’s known Camila for years, not months.

She’s only half watching the movie, because she’s only half awake, and when Camila talks, it makes her snap out of her weird, groggy state.

“What’s that scar on your left knee?”

Lauren looks up in surprise, but her expression quickly turns to one of concern. “Uh… that would be where they amputated my leg, Camz.”

“No, no,” Camila shakes her head, and points to the hem of Lauren’s duvet, “I don’t mean that. Can I?”

Lauren nods, and Camila pushes the blankets off them. She pushes down that nervousness, because she knows Camila hasn’t taken a _real_ look at what’s left of her leg, because Lauren hasn’t let her yet, knowing that it’d kill her if Camila said something negative. She _knows_ that she wouldn’t, but everybody she’s ever dated has made her keep it covered, the only exception to that being Lucy.

She waits for the _wow, that’s kind of gross_ or the _it looks so weird,_ but instead Lauren feels her poke at her knee, and it finally clicks what Camila is talking about. “Oh. That was from a softball incident when I was fifteen.”

When she doesn’t elaborate, Camila raises her eyebrows. “And?”

“I fell over,” Lauren shrugs, pushing her anxiety away, “tripped when I was running. Cut open my knee. Looked at the big gash in my leg, thought, _oh, I’ll be fine_ , and then woke up with an infection the next day.”

Camila stares at her in surprise. “You didn’t go to the nurse? I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

“I think you’ll find that most academically intelligent people really have no common sense,” Lauren tells her, “and I am a _big_ part of that statistic.”

It’s true; for most of her life, people have always said things like _aren’t you supposed to be smart_ when she does something that requires some form of common sense, and she _is_ academically smart. It’s just everything else that gets her.

Camila chuckles, grabbing the duvet and pulling it back over them. She reaches for the laptop, which she’d set aside when she moved, and presses play on the movie again, pulling Lauren closer.

Deciding that it’s best to voice her worries, she asks, “aren’t you grossed out?”

“What, by a weird knee scar you got from being an idiot?” Camila laughs, “Of course not, loser.”

Lauren fixes her with a serious look. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Camila meets her gaze and sends her a reassuring smile. “Why would I be grossed out? Just because something is different, it doesn’t mean it’s gross.”

Lauren sighs. “I just- it’s the first time you’ve seen me without my prosthetic on, and-”

Camila frowns at her. “No, it’s not. You didn’t have it on when you were napping on the couch that day we decorated together. And honestly, I don’t understand why you’re so extra about it. It’s just your leg.”

“I’m not _extra_ about it,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “I just really like you and I _thought_ you hadn’t seen it, and I didn’t want you to change your mind.”

Camila just smiles. “Nothing could make me change my mind about you. And you’re _very_ extra.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Lauren pouts, taking Camila’s hand under the blankets. “Thank you for being so amazing.”

“I’m not being amazing,” Camila corrects her, squeezing her hand, “I’m not really making an effort to be like, courteous about it or whatever? I honestly don’t even think about it because I’m more wrapped up in the fact that I’m with the hottest girl on the planet to think about you being an amputee.”

Lauren lets out a long sigh of content. “And that’s exactly why you’re amazing.”

Camila ruffles Lauren’s hair, and the older girl melts into her touch. “I like that you don’t dispute being the hottest girl on the planet.”

Lauren blushes, but laughs. “Fine. _One_ of, because you definitely qualify for that title.”

“Hell yeah I do,” Camila grins at her, and Lauren jumps a little when her warm hand touches her hip. “Oh, sorry, are my hands cold?”

“No, just wasn’t expecting it,” Lauren assures her, and quickly shifts onto her side and snuggles her face into Camila’s neck. “After this, do you want to get up and make some Christmas cookies?”

“Absolutely,” Camila smiles, kissing the top of Lauren’s head, “don’t forget, I need to meet your mom.”

Lauren groans. “Can’t we just escape to your place before she gets home?”

“Nope,” Camila shakes her head, “I have to meet her at some point, right? I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” Lauren sighs, playing with Camila’s fingers under the cover. “I just don’t want her to scare you off.”

“She _won’t_ ,” Camila laughs, squeezing her hand in reassurance, “like I said, nothing could change my mind. Even if your mom is throwing weird statistics at me.”

Lauren nods, believing her. “Okay. Just… brace yourself, alright? We already had a conversation about it last night, when my dad mentioned he’d met you. She said that she needs to meet you to make sure you’re _knowledgeable_. I think she just wants to turn you into her little spy.”

“I would _never_ turn to the dark side,” Camila sends her a horrified look, “my allegiance remains true and pure.”

Lauren laughs. “You’re cute. And I know you wouldn’t spy for her _or_ rat on me for drinking.”

“Do you smoke?” Camila asks. “I mean, I can’t see you doing it because it actually does increase the risk of getting sick again.”

“I won’t touch cigarettes,” Lauren answers, “but I’ve smoked weed. Not like, regularly, but at parties and stuff.”

“Oh,” Camila takes in her answer, and nods and sends her a small smile, “alright then.”

Lauren shivers when Camila’s fingers run through her hair again. “I love that.”

“Yeah?” Camila smiles, and keeps playing with her hair as she turns back to the movie. Lauren snuggles closer to her, keeping one eye open to watch the movie playing on the laptop screen.

Lauren sighs happily, and closes her eyes, the sound of Camila’s heartbeat lulling her back to sleep.

“Lo.”

Lauren blinks in surprise at the cold hand poking her, and she knows from the arms already around her that it’s not Camila. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she looks up and meets Taylor’s gaze. “Thought I’d warn you that mom just got home.”

At the words, Lauren sits up, alert, and Camila groans as she wakes up. “Thanks, Tay. This is Camila, by the way.”

A sleepy Camila sends a tired smile Taylor’s way. “Hi. You’re- you’re Lauren’s sister?”

“Yeah,” Taylor smiles as she heads out of the room, “you might want to wake up because mom is going to interview you in like five minutes.”

Camila rubs at her eyes and squeezes Lauren’s thigh under the covers in an effort to reassure her that things will be fine. Just as Taylor warned, there’s a curt knock on Lauren’s bedroom door, and it swings open before Lauren can even say _come in_.

An older woman, very math teacher-esque, examines Camila with a stern look on her face. The Latina grips Lauren’s hand a little tighter, and Lauren lets out a long sigh, looking over at her mom. “Please be nice.”

“I’ll be nice when I know she’s good to you.” Clara tells her, stern as ever. “Camila, is it?”

“I- um, yes,” Camila stutters out, trying to put on her best smile, “It’s really nice to meet you, Mrs Jauregui. Lauren talks about you all the time.”

“I’m sure she does,” Clara fixes her with another one of her stern mom looks, and Lauren rolls her eyes, “Camila, has my daughter told you that she’s recovering from a serious illness?”

Before Camila can reply, Lauren cuts in. “ _Recovered_. And if I hadn’t told her, I’d be pretty annoyed right now.”

“It’s important for her to know,” Clara argues, turning to Camila again, “because Lauren is more likely to develop a second cancer than you are to ever get it. If you’re not prepared to deal with something like that, then walk out of that door right now.”

Camila looks completely taken aback. “Um, that’s kind of-”

“It’s the truth,” Clara interrupts her, “she could have a recurrence, and-”

“And if I do, then I do,” Lauren interrupts her, “but right now, I’m perfectly fine, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to get my girlfriend to dump me.”

“If she can’t handle it, she should get out,” Clara states, before she looks over at Camila and asks, “has she been drinking at all? Alcohol causes three percent of all cancers, you know. And you’d better have told her what you can and can’t do, Lauren, and how to help care for your residual limb, because-”

“Oh my god, mom, just _leave_ her alone,” Lauren sighs exasperatedly and looks up at her mom, sending her a pleading look. “I know you worry, but-”

“I worry because you’re my daughter and I love you and I’m not letting you be with anyone who isn’t good enough,” Clara snaps at her, before looking at Camila. “If you want to be with her, you have to make sure that she’s-”

“She doesn’t have to do _anything_ ,” Lauren reaches over Camila and grabs her prosthetic, which she’d left leaning against her bedside table. “You know what, we’re going.”

“Lauren, no,” Camila grabs Lauren’s wrist as she goes to throw the blankets off them, “it’s Christmas, and you shouldn’t argue with your mom because of me. I’ll go home, okay?”

“I don’t want you to go home,” Lauren frowns at her, before sending a _this is your fault_ look over at her mother, “my _mom_ is going to apologise, and speak civilly to my new girlfriend.”

Clara sighs. “You’re being ridiculous, she needs to know that statistically it’s highly possible that you could have a recurrence.”

“Yeah, it’s possible, but it’s also possible that I could get hit by a car, or get in a plane crash,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “it _could_ happen, but it’s not _going_ to. So stop being weird and be nice to her.”

Clara has some sort of a stare off with her, before she looks back at Camila. “While everything I said before still holds, you’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

“Oh, um, I would love to, but I actually have to be home tonight,” Camila says, “Christmas Eve and all that. But any other time is perfectly fine. And- and I promise I’ll look after Lauren if she wants that.”

The words _if she wants that_ make Lauren’s stomach flutter, and she locks her fingers with Camila and sends her a small smile. “Thank you, Camz. And I totally second that dinner invitation for another time.”

As Clara leaves the room, all of the tension dissipates, and Camila finally seems to _breathe_. “That was terrifying.”

“Yeah, but at least it’s out of the way,” Lauren shrugs, realising she’s still holding onto her prosthetic. She goes to put it back where it was, and nearly hits Camila in the face. “Oh, sorry, nearly kicked you in the mouth.”

Camila snorts, and Lauren smiles at the soft laughter. “You know, even though I’m the funny one, you definitely have your moments.”

Lauren just smiles, settling back down in the bed. She grabs her laptop where they’d left it on the bed, and closes out of the tab, because the credits of _Elf_ are rolling. Admittedly, Lauren feels bad that she’d missed it because she was sleeping, and makes a mental note to watch it with Camila every year until forever.

“Want to make Christmas cookies?” She asks, stretching and yawning. “I feel well rested now.”

“I bet,” Camila chuckles, “want your leg back? Or will it be my duty to piggyback you around the kitchen?”

“As funny as it would be to have you as my personal piggybacker, I think I’d rather walk,” Lauren answers, fumbling with the pin lock on her prosthetic to take apart the two halves as she yawns again. She pulls on the liner, jumping a little when Camila rests her head on her shoulder. “Hi.”

“Sorry I jumpscared you,” Camila apologises as Lauren pushes the liner into the socket of the prosthetic and listens carefully for the _click_ to signal the lock. “Do you happen to have any cookie cutters? One time, I tried making Christmas tree shaped cookies, and I didn’t have a proper cutter, so the shapes were bad enough as it is, but _then_ , I used a recipe with self-raising flour. They ended up like weird blobs.”

Lauren snorts. “I’m surprised you didn’t burn the house down in the process.”

“Hey! Baking is easier than cooking, _and_ it was one of Ally’s recipes, so they tasted amazing. It was just that they didn’t, um,” Camila interrupts herself with a laugh, “they didn’t look the most appealing.”

Lauren chuckles, getting out of bed and nodding towards her bathroom. “I’m just gonna go wash my face and brush my teeth and stuff. Feel free to snoop through my stuff.”

Camila laughs. “You’d let me snoop around your room?”

“I mean, the most scandalous thing you’d find would be like, my secret stash of alcohol.” Lauren shrugs, “anyway, I’ll be like, five minutes, tops. Feel free to root around to your heart’s content.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Camila says, snuggling down on the bed again, “can I play on your computer?”

“Sure,” Lauren nods, and walks into the bathroom, not bothering to lock the door behind her. She brushes her teeth, and quickly splashes some water on her face and hoping that it’ll substitute for her usual moisturising routine, before walking back out into her bedroom and raising her eyebrows at Camila’s position. “That’s flattering.”

Camila looks up, laughing. She’s laid with Lauren’s laptop on her stomach, her chin rested against her collarbone, a position that gives even tiny little Camila a double chin. “It’s comfortable. I’m watching this bad _X Factor_ audition. A crazy lady called Rachel who sings _all around the towns and everything._ ”

Lauren laughs at the attempt at the woman’s accent. She glances at the woman on the screen and snorts. “I’ve seen that.”

“You know what I haven’t seen?” Camila asks, and Lauren shakes her head. “Your audition.”

Lauren rolls her eyes, thinking back to the day she’d auditioned. If she’s honest, it felt like a dream, and the memory itself is slightly hazy. She still doesn’t believe she ever had the guts to do that. “Maybe one day you’ll see it.”

“God, Lauren, I’m on the edge of my seat here!” Camila announces, pouting at her. “Please?”

“One day,” Lauren promises her, and while she means it, she thinks she might have to watch it over once before, because she’s never actually seen it. She knows it was televised, because the audition aired just after she’d started back at school, and people had come up to her and wished her luck. People had also offered her congratulations when she’d gotten through to the live shows, which she’d already known but couldn’t tell anyone, and they’d offered condolences when she’d dropped out of the show because she was sick.

Sometimes, Lauren wonders if she could’ve won it, but she’s happy with the way things have turned out. She couldn’t imagine being famous.

Camila snaps her out of her thoughts as she closes the laptop. “Well, let’s complete our festive task of making cookies.”

Lauren nods in agreement, and puts on her obnoxiously bright Christmas jumper. She offers Camila a different one, and the younger girl smiles appreciatively, changing into it, and even if it’s a bright and cheesy Christmas jumper, Lauren really loves seeing her in her clothes.

As Camila stands up, Lauren takes her hand and holds open her bedroom door for her. It’s only around the corner to the kitchen, which is a big perk when Lauren sneaks in there for a midnight snack. While she’d hated the room switch with her parents when she was sick, it definitely has its perks.

Lauren plugs her phone into the speaker that they keep in the kitchen, and grabs one of the cookbooks out of the cupboard. Her mom has a huge stash of them, and Lauren had basically taught herself to cook from them. “I know there’s a baking book here.”

“What about cookie cutters?” Camila asks. “That’s like, the most important part.”

Lauren laughs, “Probably in the drawer just to your left.”

Camila nods, and opens the drawer, grinning like a kid on Christmas day. “Christmas trees and Santa hats. It’s like you _knew_ I was coming.”

“I mean, I _did_ know you were coming,” Lauren laughs, flipping to a page and smiling at the instructions. “Perfect. We don’t need self-raising for this. It’s just chocolate chip.”

“Chocolate chip Santa hates and Christmas trees. Perfect,” Camila smiles, “Wait, do you like chocolate chip cookies? Since you hate chocolate.”

“Yeah, I like chocolate chip,” Lauren answers, “it’s okay in small doses, and the cookie overpowers the chocolate, you know? It’s like with Reeses, I get the peanut butter more than the chocolate. I can eat things that feature chocolate, but chocolate itself is just gross.”

“Weird,” Camila mutters, loud enough for Lauren to hear. “What kind of crazy person _are_ you?”

“I’m a crazy person with no cavities,” Lauren grins at her, purposely flashing her teeth. “Take _that._ How does it feel to be a slave to sugar?”

“Speaking of sugar, we’re going to need it for this recipe,” Camila shoots back, “and I have no idea where anything is, because I’ve never been here before in my life. So do tell.”

“Sugar is in that cupboard there,” Lauren tells her, grabbing a mixing bowl out of the bottom cupboard and pulling a wooden spoon out of the drawer that Camila had found the cookie cutters in. “And the flour is over there.”

Camila gets the supplies, and Lauren gets the two eggs they need out of the fridge. “What’s your favourite kind of snack, then? Since you don’t like candy or anything.”

“I _love_ anything peanut butter,” Lauren tells her, “my favourite snack in high school was just eating a full jar of either peanut butter or Nutella. I still do it on occasion, but my metabolism doesn’t get rid of the evidence as quickly, so I always feel the need to go to the gym after.”

“You go to the gym?” Camila asks, actually look interested. “What’s that like? I’ve never been to a gym before.”

Lauren laughs. “I mean, occasionally I’ll use the free one on campus, but if I want to work out, I just go for a run. And when I’m home, I like to swim.”

Camila frowns. “You told me you couldn’t go to the waterpark because you couldn’t get the prosthetic wet. Did you just _lie_? Is the badass Lauren Jauregui _lying_ because she’s actually too scared to go on a waterslide?”

Lauren chuckles, weighing out the correct amount of flour before taking some out of the bag and flicking it in Camila’s face. “I didn’t lie, I can’t get it wet, but when I’m _here_ , obviously my pool is in my backyard, so I’m more comfortable just going in without my prosthetic. Can’t really do that at a waterpark, since they’re big open spaces, and you need to walk around a lot. But at home, I can just lounge around and sunbathe, take it off at the side of the pool and swim a little.”

Camila frowns, like she’s trying to figure out the logistics of that, but eventually just sends a passive shrug Lauren’s way. “Alright. We should have a pool party some time. Your place or mine, I don’t mind. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted you in a bikini.”

Lauren blushes, giving Camila a playful nudge. “Perv.”

“You’re the perv, perv,” Camila teases her, grabbing some flour from the bowl and throwing it at Lauren. “Take that.”

Lauren scoffs, and messes up her hair to get the flour out as best as she can. She wipes her face with the back of her hand and sends Camila a scowl, picking up one of the eggs and holding it up threateningly. “Don’t tempt me, Cabello.”

Camila gasps in mock offence. “You _wouldn’t_.”

Lauren grins. “Try me.”

Camila pouts, and Lauren feels her resolve cracking. The younger Latina stares into her eyes and puts a gentle hand on her waist. “But baby, you wouldn’t do that to me. Right?”

Lauren laughs, but it’s shaky as Camila presses soft kisses against her jaw. “I- um, no, I wouldn’t do that.”

Camila grins, taking the egg from her and placing it down on the counter. “Thank you, babygirl. You made the right choice.”

As Camila presses another kiss to her cheek before busying herself with the flour, Lauren realises that there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for this woman.

-

**31/01/16**

“Happy New Year.”

Camila smiles as she opens the door and lets Lauren through. “You too. Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?”

“Yeah, because all I wanted for Christmas was you,” Lauren winks at her, sitting down on the bottom stair to take her shoes off. “Imagine my delight when I realised I already had you.”

“Wow, not even giving me five minutes to get ready for the cheesiness, huh?” Camila laughs, holding out a hand to help Lauren up from the stairs. “Did you bring your PJs?”

“Mhm,” Lauren hums and motions to the backpack she’d dumped as soon as she walked through the door. “I came extra prepared. I know you have your cow onesie, which you look super cute in, by the way-”

Before Lauren can continue, Camila smiles and smooths out the front of the onesie proudly. “Thanks, it’s my prized possession.”

“Well, yes, you have that,” Lauren says, grabbing her backpack and digging through it. She pulls out a white bundle, and unrolls it, flashing her a proud grin. “I have this.”

Camila laughs. “A unicorn onesie?”

“Mhm,” Lauren answers, shouldering her backpack again and nodding to the stairs. “I’ll go change in your bedroom and be right back.”

As Lauren heads up the stairs, Camila calls after her. “Oh, you’ll be pleased to know that my mom left us a bottle of champagne. Granted, it’s the cheapest she could find.”

“I don’t care about the price tag, I care about the alcohol percentage,” Lauren answers, not looking back at her as she gets to the top of the stairs. “I might have a little something hidden in my backpack, but I’m not going to confirm or deny if your parents are still here.”

“They’re gone,” Camila assures her, “so please tell.”

“Two bottles of my favourite white wine,” Lauren proudly replies, “now let me get comfy and we’ll crack open a bottle.”

“Alright, alright,” Camila smiles, “I’ll be in the lounge.”

She flops down on the couch, glancing at the clock. 8pm. She really hopes her sister doesn’t get tired and ask to come home early, because she knows her parents would bring her home, and she doesn’t want to kiss a girl in front of her parents. She wants her first New Year’s kiss to be romantic, and _not_ watched by her parents and sister.

Lauren walks back into the room, looking cuddly as fuck in her little unicorn onesie and holding a bottle of wine in each hand. “Time to party!”

“You’re getting drunk?” Camila asks, following Lauren into the kitchen. The younger Latina gets two glasses out of the cupboard, and Lauren opens one bottle, putting the other in the fridge next to the champagne. “We’re saving that champagne for later.”

“Of course, baby,” Lauren smiles, pouring out an equal amount of wine into the glasses, “and I’m definitely getting drunk, that’s the whole point of New Year’s Eve.”

“As long as you don’t go too hard,” Camila says, taking a sip of her wine. She’s not the biggest fan of wine, but it’s drinkable, and sweeter than the kind her mom usually drinks. “I don’t want you going overboard. One time, Dinah went overboard when she invited people over for drinks. She stopped drinking at like midnight and she was still puking at 3pm the next day.”

Lauren cringes. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. By this point, I know my limits.”

“What’s the worst hangover you’ve ever had?” Camila asks, not sure why she’s asking, because a story like that generally involves vomit. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?”

“I don’t really see you as a big drinker, honestly. I guess it’s because you didn’t drink anything on that night out,” Lauren watches her carefully, before shrugging and taking a sip of her wine, “I had a bad night on vodka. Probably about two years ago now. It was my first time drinking vodka, and I’d only ever touched wine before, so no hard liquor. I didn’t understand that you don’t need as much to get as drunk and ended up drinking way too much and vomited for like, a whole day. After that, I mainly stick to wine, but occasionally I’ll have a vodka night.”

“I hate vodka,” Camila crinkles her nose in disgust. “And the only reason I didn’t drink was because I didn’t want to end up drunk and do something stupid and then you’d think I was weird. I wanted to impress you, but clearly you didn’t have that worry.”

Lauren blushes embarrassedly, following Camila into the lounge and sitting down next to her on the couch. She sips her wine and shrugs. “I didn’t _plan_ on getting drunk. I just… wanted to be able to talk to you without overanalysing everything in my head.”

“We’re both awkward idiots, basically,” Camila laughs, resting her head on Lauren’s shoulder. She thinks back to the day they’d met, the day she was so tired and over school already, and then some _idiot_ had thrown their drink all over her. It felt like the worst thing that could possibly happen, like it was the worst day ever, but in hindsight, it was the best. “I never thought I’d be dating the asshole that threw her drink all over me.”

Lauren gives her a light elbow to the side. “I didn’t do it on _purpose_.”

“I know, I know,” Camila smiles. “I’m actually glad you did, because I have the most amazing girlfriend on the face of the earth. Even if she’s a little clumsy.”

Lauren hums happily. “You’re clumsy too. We make a dangerous duo.”

“Our relationship is a weapon of mass destruction.” Camila snorts, “how come your parents let you learn to drive, when you’re bad on foot? My parents won’t let me near a car.”

Lauren just shrugs. “I pouted and looked sad until my dad caved. I got my license legit the week before I got sick, and my mom took it away after the amputation, and then I stole it and my car keys.”

“And then you ran over Lucy,” Camila snorts, remembering the anecdote from their night out. “I can’t believe you _ran someone over_.”

“I’m a good driver,” Lauren pouts indignantly, “The whole point of going out that day was to get used to driving with the prosthetic, and she was the one who convinced me to do it anyway, and I only _bumped_ her, at like _five_ mph. She just likes being dramatic.”

“You guys have that in common,” Camila laughs, “you’re extra as fuck.”

Lauren gasps, completely emphasising her point. “Where’d you get that idea?”

Camila just chuckles, taking another sip of her wine as Lauren knocks the rest of her drink back and stands up. “Getting a refill?”

“Mhm,” Lauren nods, stretching, “do you want me to fill yours up a little?”

“No, I’m good,” Camila assures her, watching as Lauren heads into the kitchen and sighing happily. “Do you want to order takeout?”

“Yes, when I’m drunk enough to have no regrets,” Lauren calls back from the kitchen. A few moments later, she walks around the door, a full glass of wine in her hand. “What’re you thinking? Pizza? Chinese? Thai? Sushi?”

“I’ve never tried sushi,” Camila admits, shrugging, “I don’t really… eat things that I don’t know.”

“So… your diet is basically just pizza and hamburgers?” Lauren raises an eyebrow, laughing lightly at Camila’s sheepish nod. “I honestly don’t know why I expected anything else.”

Camila lets out an indignant scoff. “I try things!”

Lauren looks at her in amused disbelief. “Of course you do.”

“I _do_ ,” Camila insists, spluttering to think of something she’s actually tried, “um… I tried salmon!”

“That’s because you know what salmon is!” Lauren laughs at her, “I’ve eaten octopus.”

“Alright, Bear Grylls,” Camila rolls her eyes, “bet you’d never try puffer fish.”

“Isn’t that the one that has to be cooked perfectly and only a specific part of it isn’t poisonous?” Lauren asks her, frowning in thought. “Sure, I’d try it. As long as I knew it was cooked by a professional.”

“The only reason I know it can kill you is because of that episode of _The Simpsons_ ,” Camila laughs, “TV can be educational. But I don’t see why you’d try it when you went through so much to stay alive. You’d throw all that away for a piece of fish?”

“Wow, and you say _I’m_ the extra one,” Lauren teases her, “and yeah, I would. The whole reason you go through treatment when you have cancer is to _live_ , and being extra careful and cautious and turning yourself into an agoraphobic isn’t a way to live. Might as well eat a pufferfish or jump out of a plane or go in a shark cage.”

Camila frowns. “That doesn’t seem like something you’d do.”

“Well, you’re right, I definitely wouldn’t go skydiving, I’m afraid of heights,” Lauren chuckles, “but try puffer fish or go in a shark cage? Yeah, why not?”

“Maybe I have too many self-preservation instincts, but I’d never do anything if there’s a big risk of death,” Camila shrugs, “like, what if I go into a shark cage and the shark breaks in and eats me?”

“Sharks aren’t interested in eating humans,” Lauren points out like it’s just common knowledge, “we’re too bony for their liking. The only reason they go for people, mainly surfers, is because we resemble their actual prey. They have shitty eyesight, so they think we’re their prey, they take a bite, realise we’re not, and swim away. They don’t usually continue chomping.”

“While I’m a little confused about how you know that,” Camila starts, “they’ve still taken a bite out of you! You’re there on your surfboard or in the shark cage, bleeding out.”

“Well, yeah, but my point is, you’re not getting _eaten_.” Lauren laughs, sipping on her wine. “Nine out of ten times, the worst a shark would do is take a bite out of you.”

“That’s not the most comforting thing in the world,” Camila replies, “I’d rather not have a massive bite taken out of my stomach, thanks.”

Lauren laughs, pulling up the hood on her onesie and resting her head on Camila’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’d rather you stayed safe, too.”

“You’re the one who wants to go in the shark cage, weirdo,” Camila points out, “what would _you_ do if a shark decided it wanted to hang out in the cage with you and take a little bite to see what it was dealing with?”

“Well, probably scream as loud as I possibly could,” Lauren laughs, “and then bleed out and die.”

“Wow, such a positive outlook on life,” Camila deadpans, fingers finding their way to Lauren’s hair and running through the dark locks. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t go in a shark cage.”

“Alright, fine, I guess I won’t,” Lauren chuckles a little, finishing off her second glass of wine while Camila is still on her first. She laughs, nodding at the glass. “You didn’t have to drink anything if you didn’t want to, you know?”

“I’m still drinking, just at a human pace,” Camila laughs, kissing the top of Lauren’s head, “I think one of us should stay slightly sound of mind and judging by your pace, you don’t want to be the one to do that.”

“No, no, you deserve to have a good time,” Lauren puts her empty glass down on the coffee table and doesn’t move to get another one. “I’ll stop. Go have more.”

“Baby,” Camila kisses her softly, finishing off her glass and putting it down too. “Go get some more. I’ll stop. I’ve had less than you, anyway.”

After a few moments, Lauren narrows her eyes, “Are you sure you’re not just pulling a Lucy and trying to stay sober just in case I do something stupid? Because I don’t need your supervision.”

“I generally stay sober when I’m with my friends and they’re all drinking. Just in case,” shrugging, and standing up, Camila grabs the glasses, “but I guess we _are_ staying in.”

Lauren frowns at her. “You don’t have to drink. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s New Year’s Eve.” Camila decides, shrugging, “The perfect night to drink. I’ll go get us both a refill, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Lauren asks, still frowning like she’d said something wrong. “I don’t want you to feel pressured and if you want to stay sober, then just stay sober. I don’t mind. Sorry for accusing you of being overprotective like everyone else. I know you’re not like that.”

“I know, but we’re in my house, we’re not going anywhere else, we’re safe,” Camila shrugs, “this is probably the best possible time to get wine drunk. Let’s do it.”

After a few moments of thought, Lauren’s face breaks into a grin. “Alright. Can we do karaoke? It’s like the perfect drunk activity and since you study music, I know you sing.”

Camila laughs. “How could you possibly know that? I’ve never told you what _kind_ of things I do in my classes. For all you know, I could play the cello or something.”

Lauren snorts. “Well, do you?”

“No, you know that I play guitar,” Camila easily replies, and after a few moments, she relents. “And yes, I sing. And so do you. I _still_ want to see your X Factor audition, by the way.”

Lauren smirks. “Yeah, I don’t think we’re on _that_ level yet.”

Camila glares at her. “I could always just search it up myself.”

“You _could_ , but I don’t think you _would_.” Lauren levels her with a grin and pushes herself up off the couch, grabbing her glass from Camila’s hand and passing her to get to the kitchen. “If you get me drunk enough, maybe I’ll recreate it.”

Camila snorts, taking the glass from her and pushing past her girlfriend to open the fridge. “That’s _my_ glass, bitch.”

“Camz, my tongue has literally been in your mouth, I don’t think sharing a glass is going to kill you,” Lauren shoots back, pulling out the bottle of wine and pouring the remainder into both of their glasses. Then, she opens the other bottle, tops up their glasses, and holds up the empty bottle. “Where shall I hide this?”

“We keep all of the recycling stuff in here,” Camila leads Lauren down the hallway and opens the door that goes into the garage. “That trash can, there.”

Lauren dumps the bottle and follows Camila back into the kitchen. Grabbing her glass, she takes a sip and sends her a smile. “I’m already feeling it.”

“Well, that _is_ your third glass,” Camila chuckles, not ready to admit that she’s a little tipsy, too. “I don’t blame you.”

“I’m a lightweight.” Lauren admits, cheeks flushed from either the wine or her girl’s embarrassment. “But you probably already knew that from our club night. And I haven’t really eaten today, so I’m feeling it a little more.”

“We can order food,” Camila says, grabbing her computer on the way back to the couch. Lauren settles down next to her and sends her a content smile. “Damn, you’re like, the definition of heart eyes right now.”

“Apologies in advance,” Lauren says, “I’m a cuddly drunk, so I’m sorry if I’m overly affectionate.”

“Baby,” Camila laughs, opening up the Domino’s website and sitting down next to her girlfriend, “you could never be overly affectionate because we’re like, equally as cuddly.”

Lauren hums, resting her head on Camila’s shoulder as the younger Latina browses the website, clearly torn between a pepperoni pizza and a _Hawaiian_ of all things. “Seriously? You… you like pineapple on pizza?”

“Mhm,” Camila nods her head, deciding to add a medium Hawaiian to her cart before she pushes the laptop over to Lauren, letting her choose her food. “You don’t? I thought you liked trying things?”

“I do, which is just infinite proof that it’s disgusting,” Lauren looks at her like she’s just grown another head. “What the _fuck_ , Camila. Why didn’t you tell me about this when we met? It’s the biggest dealbreaker!”

“See? Extra,” Camila chuckles to herself, before resting her head on Lauren’s shoulder and pouting. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!” Lauren announces, giving her a light shove. “Get off me! You’re not my girlfriend anymore. If I’d known you were like _this_ , I never would’ve asked you out.”

“I asked _you_ out, if you recall,” Camila laughs, “come on, it’s not like I killed anyone!”

Lauren finally breaks character and laughs, before trying her best to make her expression serious again. It doesn’t work out, and she laughs again, taking another drink of her wine and wrapping her arms around Camila’s waist. “Fine, I guess I can accept your flaws.”

Camila laughs. “Would watching _High School Musical_ make it better?”

“No, but _High School Musical_ drunk karaoke would,” Lauren answers, grinning, “I want to hear you sing. Is music like, what you want to go into?”

“Yeah,” Camila nods, finishing off her second glass of wine. Everything is starting to feel a little fuzzy, and she doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way Lauren is making her feel, but she likes it. “Teaching as like, a backup. But I want to be a singer, you know? I want to write songs and play my music. But I also like the technological side, too. I actually have a class next semester that’s about music production, and the final project is producing a track, which sounds like so much fun.”

Lauren hums. “So, what’s with the literature side of it all?”

“I love books,” Camila shrugs, “and I feel like it could help with my songwriting, maybe? I don’t know, I just like to do it. What about you? Politics and law has to be pretty mind-numbing, right?”

“Freshman year was hell,” Lauren answers, laughing, “especially in law, because you just have to memorise so much shit. I almost considered dropping all of the law classes and just focusing on politics, because it was more interesting to me, especially the historical side.”

Camila hums, paying for the two pizzas in the basket, unsurprised when Lauren had chosen pepperoni. “And now? Obviously you feel differently, since you didn’t drop it.”

“I actually prefer the law stuff. I picked the two subjects because it felt like a good match, you know? Either way, I want to help people, and I could either do that from government, or on a more… personal basis, like a lawyer. And I find criminal law really interesting.” Lauren shrugs. “If I went into government it’d definitely feel more impersonal, and while one day I’m definitely going to go into it and try to make a real difference, like, a presidential difference, I want to do law first. Criminal defence attorney is the dream at the moment.”

“I really admire that,” Camila murmurs, “makes me feel a little dumb for wanting to be a musician.”

Lauren shakes her head, sending her a small smile, “The world needs music as much as it needs justice. I think you’re forgetting that I wanted to be a musician. I might’ve changed my mind, but it was still something I wanted to pursue. There’s nothing shameful in wanting to pursue your creativity, despite what our society tries to force down our throats. It’s not any less valid than academics.”

“I know, but… everyone always just assumes it’s some kind of phase, you know?” Camila sighs. “Like you’ll change your mind and decide to do something more practical.”

“Then tell them to go fuck themselves,” Lauren easily answers, finishing the rest of her wine and blinking in surprise at her own actions, giggling lightly. “Okay, I’m definitely feeling a little… weird. I’m sorry if I’m not as articulate as usual, but… yeah. My point is, you’ve got to do what you want to do. It’s not anyone else’s decision to make. If you feel like that’s your passion, go for it. My mom didn’t want me to try out for _The X Factor_ , but I did it anyway, and got through because all of the judges said yes. You’ve just got to go out there and show those negative nancies that they’re idiots, that you _can_ do it.”

Camila hums, pressing a kiss to Lauren’s cheek. “You’re so smart even when you’re tipsy.”

“You’re damn right I am.” Lauren grins. “Just, don’t be like, _disheartened_ about the fact that I changed my mind. It doesn’t mean you will.”

Camila hums. “Why did you change your mind? I know that it was when you got sick, but you never told me why.”

Lauren shrugs, sending her a casual smile. “I guess I just realised that I wasn’t even like, _that_ sad about having to drop out of _The X Factor_. I was thinking, because even though the idea of having a future was uncertain, I was like, if I get through this, then what am I going to do with the life I’m fighting for? The way I didn’t care that much about leaving the show made me think _what’s the point in fighting to get back there_?”

“I guess that _would_ make you take a step back and think about things,” Camila murmurs, “I’m glad that you’re… you’re doing what makes you happy. What you’re passionate about, you know?”

Lauren hums. “Well, what’s life without passion?”

“Okay, I have a question,” Camila announces, sitting up and grinning, “so, if you got the choice, would you rather skip the rest of college and just get given an auto degree of the highest possible classification, _or_ go back in time and get given the role of Sharpay in _High School Musical_.”

Lauren bursts out laughing at the question, before rolling her eyes and announcing, “Obviously Sharpay. I’d legit bleach my hair for that iconic part, and I have a phobia of that.”

Camila snorts. “You have a phobia of bleaching your hair? I thought you wanted to dye it black?”

“Yeah, but I’m paranoid that I’ll be like, allergic to some weird chemical in it and all my hair will fall out. I already lost it once!” Lauren announces, running a hand through her hair like she’s checking it’s still there. “It took forever to grow to here. But I’d risk it for the iconic role of Sharpay Evans.”

Camila laughs. “Do you actually hate Troy and Gabriella?”

“Not so much Troy, because he’s very nice to look at, but they’re both annoying because they somehow _steal the lead roles_ after just bursting in with their boring acoustic versions of everything,” Lauren lets out an exasperated sigh. “The only song that’s actually kind of _good_ is, uh, _I’ve never had someone who knows me like you do_. You know? That was good acoustically. But their performance of _Breaking Free_ would never beat Sharpay and Ryan’s _actually choreographed_ performance of _Bop to the Top_. That’s just the truth.”

Camila laughs, wrapping her arms around Lauren and kissing her on the top of the head. “You’re so fucking cute, Lo. Sing something else. Like, from _High School Musical_.”

Lauren blushes. “Well, I can’t _now_. You made me shy. You sing!”

“ _We’re soaring, flying, there’s not a star in heaven that we can’t reach_ ,” Camila teases her, purposely singing a Troy and Gabriella song to annoy her. “Come on, sing the part of your obvious favourite character. Be the Gabriella to my Troy!”

“ _Disgusting!_ ” Lauren stands up, staggers a little, and grabs her glass from the tale. “That’s just- just a whole other dealbreaker right there.”

Camila laughs, standing up and wrapping her arms around Lauren’s waist, gripping onto her as her girlfriend emphasises how much of a dealbreaker that whole sentence was. “You’re funny. That’s what I adore about you.”

As she snuggles her face into Lauren’s neck, her girlfriend pokes her in the side. “Stop being affectionate when I’m trying to fake dump you!”

“You can’t fake dump me if I fake dump you first.” Camila announces, grabbing the wine glasses from Lauren and beating her to the kitchen, filling them both up. Making direct eye contact with her girlfriend, she takes a sip of the wine and smirks. “Yeah. Later, _Jauregui_. We’re over. Clearly our zodiac signs aren’t compatible.”

Lauren pouts, meeting her gaze, and Camila desperately has to look away, because there’s no way she’ll be able to resist that. “What’s your zodiac sign?”

“Pisces,” Camila shrugs, downing the glass of wine she’d just poured in an attempt to catch up to Lauren. She pours herself another glass and passes Lauren the other one. “What about you?”

Lauren takes a sip of her drink. “Why do you care? You already fake dumped me.”

“Fine, I fake undump you!” Camila announces, grabbing Lauren’s hand and pulling her back into the lounge. “Now tell me so I can google if we’re compatible.”

Lauren sits down on the couch, yawns, and answers, “Cancer.”

Without thinking about it, Camila laughs. When the sound comes out, she puts a hand over her mouth and looks at Lauren, quickly opening her mouth in apology, but all that comes out is another laugh.

Lauren cracks a smile and gives her a small shove and a warning glare. “Camz. It’s not funny.”

“It’s-” she cuts herself off with another laugh. “It’s a little funny. You have to admit it.”

“No, it’s-” Lauren ducks her head, trying to make herself look serious, but when she looks up and speaks, her words are mixed with giggles, “it’s not fucking funny!”

“ _Lauren_ ,” Camila laughs, “pretending it’s not funny doesn’t make it any less funny.”

“I- shut up,” Lauren mumbles, shaking her head and laughing to herself, “it’s not funny!”

Camila grins at her, but when the doorbell rings, she presses a kiss to the top of Lauren’s head and stands up. As she walks out of the room, she announces, “it’s funny!” And hears Lauren’s laugh from the room as she answers the door for the pizza guy.

Once they’ve got their food, Camila thinks it’ll probably be a good idea to get something in them to soak up the alcohol, because they’re almost two bottles of wine deep, which means they’ll have had a bottle each.

When they’ve finished their food, Lauren yawns, “is it midnight yet?”

Camila laughs, shaking her head, “it’s only like, ten thirty. Why?”

“I’m tired,” Lauren sighs, snuggling her face into Camila’s neck. “Please cuddle me. Can we go to bed? I don’t want to have my leg on. Can I throw it out of the window?”

Camila laughs. “I don’t think sober Lauren would appreciate you launching your prosthetic out of a window for no reason.”

“Sober Lauren is _boring_ ,” Lauren mumbles, pouting up at Camila, “she’s a buzzkill.”

“I think she’s pretty great,” Camila shrugs, “and I’m happy she likes me as much as I like her.”

“Mmm, yes,” Lauren yawns again, closing her eyes, “I think I’m a sleepy drunk.”

“I think you’re a cute drunk,” Camila grins, kissing the top of Lauren’s head. “Can we dye your hair?”

Lauren lets out the cutest sound, a mix between a gasp and a confused squeak. She sits up and stares at her, green eyes wide. “No! I told you, I have a phobia! That’s like, me pushing you into a big vat of spiders!”

“I know, but you said you wanted to dye it black, and I think it’d be really hot,” Camila says, “just, you know, say _fuck it_. Conquer your fears!”

“No, and you can’t make me!” Lauren pokes her in the cheek, “Do you want to play a game?”

“Okay, Jigsaw,” Camila jokes, even though she’s never seen _Saw_ , and she never intends on seeing it. “What kind of game?”

Lauren hums, tapping out a pattern against Camila’s thigh. “A fun game.”

Camila raises her eyebrows in amusement. “Are you making up the game right now?”

“I am,” Lauren confirms with a giggle, “do you have a deck of cards?”

Camila nods, heading over to the drawer where they keep all of the games, pulling out a deck of cards. She sits down on the floor by the coffee table, crosslegged, and Lauren yawns, studying her for a moment, and then sitting down on the floor next to Camila. She shifts, frowning down at her lap when she sits crosslegged. “This isn’t comfy.”

Camila laughs, and leans back against the bottom of the couch, pulling Lauren close. She situates her girlfriend between her legs, and wraps her arms around Lauren’s waist from behind, kissing just below her jaw. “Better?”

“Yes,” Lauren takes the cards out of the pack and gives them a shuffle, fumbling a little and dropping a few. When Camila passes them to her, she cranes her neck to look back at her girlfriend and fix her with a bright smile. “Thank you!”

Camila smiles, resting her chin on Lauren’s shoulder and watches as she straightens out the pack of cards. “You’re welcome, mi amor. What’s the game?”

“Um,” Lauren frowns. “Red, black, or purple?”

Camila hums. “Purple.”

Lauren takes two cards off the top of the deck and flips them over on the coffee table, revealing the king of hearts and the ace of spades. “You win! You got a red and black, which is purple.”

“What do I win?” Camila asks. “Money?”

“No, I’m not giving you _money_ ,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “if you get five right, you win a kiss. If you get one wrong, you have to start again, and- um, and take a drink.”

Camila pouts. “I don’t think a kiss is a good prize. I can _always_ kiss you, I’m your girlfriend.”

“Not anymore, kissing access is revoked!” Lauren announces, “You have to win it back. Anyway. Black, red, purple, higher or lower? There is an obvious choice here, because your last card was an ace.”

“Higher,” Camila says, grinning when she gets a two. “And higher again.”

Lauren flips over a queen. “Two more.”

“Lower,” Camila announces, and when Lauren turns over a seven, she hums in thought. “Red.”

Grinning when she flips over the six of diamonds, Lauren smiles, and turns around to press a chaste kiss to Camila’s lips. “You win! My turn. You shuffle.”

Camila laughs, “Okay, babygirl.”

Lauren hesitates at the name, not letting go of the deck of cards. “Can we…”

Camila frowns. “Can we _what_ , mi amor?”

Lauren puts the deck of cards on the coffee table and leans back, resting her head on Camila’s chest. “Can we just stay like this forever?”

“What do you mean, babe?” Camila asks. “Like, tipsy?”

“No,” Lauren lets out a long breath, shrugging, “just… hanging out. Having fun together. I want to stay like this forever, and it makes me happy. I heard, like, a thing. That how you see the new year in reflects how the year will go. I hope this means I get to spend time with you for all the years to come.”

Camila definitely agrees with that thought when the clock strikes twelve and she says hello to 2017 with her lips against the most beautiful girl in the world’s.

-

**16/01/17**

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Camila blinks in surprise as she walks up the steps in the lecture hall. Lauren pushes a full cup of what she _hopes_ is hot chocolate towards her, and Camila sits in the unoccupied seat next to her. “Why are you here?”

“Because I needed an extra ten credits in electives and I didn’t get to take this class last year because I had a schedule clash.” Lauren shrugs, sipping on her own drink. “That’s hot chocolate, by the way. I know you don’t really like coffee.”

Camila takes the drink with confidence and has a sip, before she presses a grateful kiss to Lauren’s cheek. “Damn, I don’t know why I’ve been blessed with you, but thanks.”

Lauren blushes. “It’s just hot chocolate. I was at the coffee shop anyway to get something for myself and I vaguely remembered glancing this lecture on your schedule, so...”

“But the fact that you remembered I don’t really like coffee, _and_ that you were sweet enough to buy me a drink… it just means a lot, okay?” Camila flashes her a smile. “You’re just so… _good_.”

“Careful, the professor might overhear you using one of the _banned words_ ,” Lauren tries to play off her compliment, “Legit one time in elementary school, my teacher gave me a fucking _detention_ for using the word _nice_ in a description piece we were doing in class. Like, sorry my seven year old brain couldn’t comprehend words like _copacetic_.”

“Your cute distraction aside,” Camila grins at her, “Thank you for the drink.”

After a few moments of silent consideration, Lauren bumps her knee against Camila’s and smiles. “You’re welcome, Camzi.”

“You’re just… such a good girlfriend,” Camila comments casually as she gets her notepad out of her backpack. “You’re so sweet and considerate that I would make out with you right here in this lecture hall, but I feel like that’d be unproductive.”

Lauren hums, and takes a quick sip of coffee. “Yeah, probably. But thank you for saying that stuff. Means a lot.”

“Of course, baby,” Camila smiles, digging in her backpack for a pen. She remembers back in freshman year, she had a pencil case, stocked with pens, highlighters, pencils, erasers, etc. but as time has gone on, she’d gradually reduced it down to one pen that she sometimes forgets to bring. “Um, Lo?”

Lauren raises her eyebrows, already holding out a pen. “Need this?”

“How did I ever survive without you?” Camila dramatically replies, taking the pen from her girl. “Thanks, babe.”

Lauren just smiles, turning back to her laptop screen, and Camila figures she should really start just bringing her laptop in and taking notes on that instead of constantly trying to track down pens.

It’s times like these, once she’s back at college after a break, that Camila really considers taking _leave_ or having a gap year or something. But then she’d be away from Lauren, and she _doesn’t_ want that, but she knows that once it’s fall, Lauren will be in her senior year, and then she’ll be graduating, and moving to wherever her future career path may take her. Washington D.C., possibly.

That’s when a question hits her, and while the lecturer is busy logging in to get to the powerpoint, Camila glances over at Lauren and whispers, “how come we’re not in the same year?”

Lauren just turns and fixes her with a slight frown. “What?”

“I mean, when you were sick, you had to have missed school, right?” Camila asks. “You were really sick, so obviously you missed a lot of work? Wouldn’t you have been held back?”

Lauren laughs a little. “Yeah, that’s funny, actually. I skipped sixth grade. I _was_ a year ahead, but then I got sick and my parents pulled me out of school, and I ended up in the grade I was supposed to be in. I was annoyed about it then, but I guess I would’ve been _more_ annoyed if I’d never skipped the grade in the first place had to spend an extra year in high school. An extra year that _would’ve_ been without my friends, too.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “You’re so smart you skipped a grade?”

Lauren blushes. “Well, I wouldn’t put it _that_ way, but yes.”

“God dammit,” Camila sighs as the lecturer calls for quiet. “You really are perfect, huh?”

Lauren opens her mouth to argue, but the room falls silent, and she merely mouths _no_ in Camila’s direction before turning back to her laptop again. Camila stays looking over at her, taking in the older Latina’s side profile, before she sighs happily and looks back to the front of the lecture hall again.

-

**28/01/17**

Lauren is… well, the only word that could _really_ describe it is _uncomfortable._

She’s out for dinner with her roommates, and a couple of other friends from one of their classes, celebrating both Vero’s 100 on a test, _and_ the cancellation of a _different_ test. She’s always happy to go out with her friends, and she knows that they wouldn’t have _intentionally_ brought a creeper, but this guy has been way too interested in her for the entire evening.

When they’d arrived at the restaurant, she’d _felt_ him staring at her, but she’d brushed it off. Then, when they’d been escorted to their table, he’d somehow worked it so he’d ended up on her left, and he’d awkwardly entrapped her into a conversation once they’d ordered, and Lauren is nothing if she’s not polite. She’s trying her best to maintain that she’s not interested, but he’s not getting it, and Lauren really feels like kicking him, and he’s on the perfect side of it, because she knows from experience that a kick from her prosthetic is like someone swinging a metal bat at your shin. She’s _seriously_ close to a hit and run right now.

“So, um, I’m actually a musician,” the guy comments, and Lauren’s already forgotten his name, “I’ve actually got like, eight thousand Spotify streams.”

 _Camila could get more,_ Lauren thinks to herself, picturing her girlfriend and looking forward to being picked up from this nightmare. She decides that once her food comes, she’s going to eat as fast as she can, then make a quick getaway. Probably say something about how Camila got finished early at her late study group tonight, and she’s arrived early to meet her. Then, she’ll just text her girl and meet her wherever she is on campus.

Awkwardly chuckling, she responds to the guy’s brag, telling herself to think of Camila, because that’ll keep her sane. “Um, cool.”

“So, what are you studying?” The guy asks her, and Lauren had hoped that a one word answer would’ve made him take the hint. “I’m doing music. You know, I almost dropped out because I figured maybe I’d have a better shot just going out there and playing for people, but I figured I’d be sensible and get my degree first.”

Translation: _my parents said no_ , Lauren thinks, rolling her eyes a little. _Thankfully_ , his rambling about himself had given Lauren a perfect opening. “Oh, my girlfriend studies music and literature.”

“Oh, I wonder if she’s in one of my classes,” The guy says, and Lauren breathes a sigh of relief, thinking he’s got the message, but then he continues, “but anyway, I asked what _you_ were studying, not what your friend was studying.”

Lauren sighs. “Law and politics.”

“Oh, damn,” The guy comments, “you know, I like smart girls.”

Lauren is saved from response when the waiter comes over, and puts her carbonara in front of her. She hopes he won’t try to talk to her while she’s eating, and thankfully, he doesn’t. Not until he gets his food, has maybe the tiniest bite, and turns to her with a grin.

“This place is really good,” he comments, and Lauren just hums a small affirmative in reply, because honestly, he’s not wrong. “Maybe we should come here by ourselves some time.”

Lauren freezes at the words, but quickly acts like she hadn’t heard, looking over at Lucy and murmuring, “Camz said she’s going to finish early so I’m going to go once I’ve finished.”

“Okay,” Lucy smiles, and at the look in Lauren’s eyes, she realises something is wrong. “Are you okay?”

Knowing that the guy is listening in, Lauren tries to send a telepathic _this guy is a creep_ to her best friend, but shakes her head and puts on a smile. “I’m fine.”

Lucy seems to understand her, because she keeps her in conversation as they eat, and once Lauren has finished, she decides to get her leftovers boxed up, and digs into her back pocket for her share of the bill. She passes it to Lucy, and hugs her before she stands up. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“You’re staying at Camila’s?” Vero asks, and Lauren nods. “Alright. See you.”

She grabs her coat, and doesn’t give the guy a chance to make eye contact with her, pulling her phone from her pocket and sending a quick SOS text to Camila as she walks out of the restaurant. Once she’s outside, she stops, getting some air and waiting for her girlfriend to text back, when someone clears their throat and she realises _he’s fucking followed her._

The guy smiles at her. “Uh, hey, you left pretty quickly there.”

Lauren grimaces. _Yeah, to get away from you_ , she thinks, but she doesn’t voice her thoughts. “Um, yeah, I have to meet my girlfriend, so…”

“Well, I was wondering if I could get your number,” The guy asks, “you know, so maybe we could go out some time.”

Lauren cringes, and tries to let him down nicely. “I- it’s sweet of you to ask, but no thanks.”

The guy frowns at her. “Um, what? I thought you were into me.”

“ _Seriously_?” Lauren says without thinking. “I’ve said I have a girlfriend like three times?”

The guy just looks at her like his brain can’t compute the information. “I thought you just meant a friend that’s a girl?”

Lauren resists the urge to roll her eyes. “No, I mean my girlfriend and I thought I made that pretty clear.”

“You were flirting back all night!” The guy argues, shooting her an angry glare that actually makes her a little frightened. “You just led me on, you fucking _slut_.”

“ _What_ did you just call her?”

At the voice, Lauren breathes out a sigh of relief, all of the tension leaving her body as Camila takes her by the waist and gently guides her behind her, putting herself between Lauren and the guy. It’s honestly funny, watching this tiny brunette standing up to this frat guy who is at _least_ six foot, but Lauren isn’t thinking about that, because she’s a little worried that her girlfriend is going to get herself killed.

The guy looks at her in amusement. “And where the fuck did _you_ crawl out of?”

Camila rolls her eyes. “Wow, real mature. Then again, I guess we can’t really expect much from you, when you call a girl a _slut_ just because she won’t date you.”

The guy looks at Lauren, as if he’s expecting her to _defend_ him. “You’re really going to let this bitch speak to me like that?”

Lauren snorts. While she always tries her best to be polite, she’s really hit her limit. Instead of awkwardly apologising and dragging Camila away, she rolls her eyes. “It’s funny how your attitude changes towards women the second you’re not trying to hit on her.”

Camila squeezes her hand. “Good point, babe. You’re so smart.”

When Camila pulls her in for a kiss, Lauren knows it’s for show, but submits to it completely, letting Camila take the lead. When she pulls away, she sends the guy a mocking smile. “My girlfriend and I will be going now.”

“Fucking lesbian bitches,” The guy curses at them, “I didn’t even think you were that hot, anyway. You’re too fat for me.”

Before Lauren can hold her back, Camila has spun on her heel, punched the guy, grabbed her hand and pulled her down the street. “What the _fuck_ , Camila?”

“What? He deserved it,” Camila comments when they’re a safe enough distance away from the guy and they know he’s not following. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“No, I’m just… surprised.” Lauren shrugs, snickering at the mental image of tiny Camila punching this huge guy. “I didn’t think you’d do anything like that.”

“He insulted you and that’s not okay,” Camila scowls back in the direction of the restaurant, but they’re too far away and the guy has gone. “You’re absolutely perfect and he was just salty that you already had an equally as amazing girlfriend.”

“I hate guys like that,” Lauren casually replies, swinging Camila’s hand as they walk. “You know, the ones that change their tune the second you’re not interested and take normal human politeness as flirting. _I led him on?_ I’m sure I mentioned _my girlfriend_ at least three times while he was trying to hit on me.”

“Asshole,” Camila mutters, scowling, “You’re mine.”

“All yours,” Lauren smiles reassuringly, squeezing her hand. “Anyway, asshole frat guy aside, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?”

“Infinite snuggles,” Camila says, “where I hold you and appreciate you and everything about you. Especially your curves.”

Lauren sends her a knowing smile. “You know I don’t care that he called me fat, right?”

“But you’re _not_.” Camila sends a glare behind them again, as if the guy will sense it from wherever he went. “And it wouldn’t even matter if you _were_.”

Lauren hums. “Guys like that think any girl over a size two is fat, so I really _don’t_ care. I like my body. I _like_ having curves and a tummy, because it reminds me that I’m healthy. When I was sick, I lost so much weight that I was just wasting away, and it wasn’t fun.”

Camila just shrugs, kissing her cheek. “Either way, you’re always going to be gorgeous to me. Even when you’re old and wrinkly.”

“That implies that you’re planning on staying with me for… a long time.” Lauren pictures it in her head, the two of them in matching rocking chairs, holding hands and reminiscing. “I like the sound of that.”

Camila grins at her. “Me too.”

-

**14/02/17**

“How do you feel about Valentine’s Day?”

Camila laughs at the question, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and turning over to meet Lauren’s gaze. “Didn’t think about asking that question _before_ the day came around?”

Lauren rolls her eyes, fingers tracing over Camila’s stomach under her shirt. “Just answer the question, loser.”

Camila hums in thought, pulling Lauren closer to her by the arm that’s around her waist. “I don’t know how I feel about it, really. I mean, I’ve never had a valentine, if you don’t count my mom sending me a card ‘love from question mark’ every Valentine’s Day when I was little.”

Lauren chuckles. “That’s so cute.”

“But to answer your question,” Camila thinks, shrugging, “I guess I’ve always been kind of a cynic. It’s a Hallmark holiday and I don’t like that, but I’m all for celebrating love, so I guess I have mixed feelings. What about you?”

“I’ve always been pretty indifferent about it,” Lauren shrugs, “I’ve never really celebrated it, like, even though my relationship with Lucy overlapped a Valentine’s Day, we didn’t do anything for it because neither of us cared. You’re right about the Hallmark holiday thing, though.”

“So, we’re not doing anything?” Camila asks, absent-mindedly playing with Lauren’s hair. “Because I already got you a card and a cute little teddy bear.”

“Aw, you’re cute,” Lauren flashes her a smile. “If you look in my bag, you would find a card and chocolates with your name on them.”

Camila grins, kissing the top of Lauren’s head. After a lot of psyching herself up, she detaches herself from her girlfriend, and goes over to Lauren’s backpack; they’d stopped bringing overnight bags to each other’s houses, because they’ve both left a spare toothbrush and a set of pyjamas with the other.

She gets the card out, and the chocolates, so tempted to rip them open and eat the whole box for her breakfast. Instead, she opens up the card, smiling at the front of it. “Minnie Mouse?”

Lauren shrugs, watching her from the bed with a small smile on her face. “You know I love my Disney.”

Camila hums in agreement, opening up the card and reading the small inscription inside, and as she looks at it, she almost laughs, because _of course_ even Lauren’s _handwriting_ is pretty.

_Camz, thank you for being so amazing and making me feel so valued. You’re my best friend and my partner in crime and I’m so grateful I met you. – Lauren._

Camila smiles, setting the card on her dresser. “Thank you, mi amor.”

“No problem, Camz,” Lauren assures her, reaching out and making grabby hands at her. “Come back to bed and cuddle me.”

“We have to get up soon,” Camila laughs, “we both have a class at one.”

Lauren pouts. “Let’s just ditch. It’s _Valentine’s Day_ , we should go on a romantic adventure in which we stay inside all day.”

“Wow, very adventurous,” Camila sarcastically replies, opening up her closet and grabbing the card and teddy bear from the top shelf. She kicks the door closed, and flops back down on her bed, holding out the card and the stuffed animal. “I was browsing for heart shaped chocolate, and then I remembered that you don’t like chocolate except for like, Nutella and hot cocoa, and I’m not just going to buy you a jar of Nutella. And then I saw this little guy, and figured I’d buy it for you.”

Lauren smiles, and hugs the stuffed bear. It’s white, holding a little heart in its arms. “That’s going to go on my special shelf at home.”

She opens up the card next, and Camila feels more than proud when Lauren laughs at the joke on the inside; _pretend I said something cute and romantic here_.

As Lauren thanks her, and tucks the card back into the envelope, Camila smiles. “Maybe I _am_ in the mood to skip class.”

Lauren hums. “Do you have a bathtub?”

Camila blinks in surprise. “What?”

Lauren just shrugs. “Well, I know you have two bathrooms, and-”

“No, no, I was just taken aback by the random question,” Camila laughs, bundling under the covers again and pulling Lauren close. “And no, I don’t have a bathtub, but Ally and Mani do in their bathroom. Why?”

“Well, I can’t shower unless I sit, so I normally just take baths, and I skipped last night because we fell asleep watching TV,” Lauren answers, “and I feel a little gross right now and I want to wash my hair.”

Camila nods, before her face lights up with a grin. “We can share a bath! That’s romantic, right? I actually have a bath bomb set that a D-list family member bought me for Christmas, and I haven’t used it because I never take baths, only showers.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows. “D-list family member?”

“Yeah, don’t you have any of those?” Camila rolls her eyes. “Like, random cousins that don’t really know you at all and only buy you a gift out of familial obligation.”

Lauren hums. “Yeah, I guess I have a couple of those. Anyway, are you sure you’re comfortable having a bath together?”

Camila snorts. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be, weirdo?”

“Just checking,” Lauren replies, sitting up and sending her a small smile. “I wouldn’t want to like, pressure you into something you don’t want to do. I want you to be comfortable and happy.”

“Everything about you makes me feel comfortable,” Camila smiles, getting out of bed again and stretching as Lauren shifts herself to the edge of the bed and works on getting her prosthetic on. “What kind of bath bomb do you want? I think it has different flavours. I don’t really think it _is_ a flavour, though.”

Lauren laughs as Camila studies the box. “Please don’t try eating the bath bomb to check.”

“You know, I wasn’t going to, but now that you’ve said that, I kind of want to,” Camila announces, as Lauren stands up and crosses the room, wrapping her arms around Camila’s waist from behind and resting her head on her shoulder. “Which one? Bubblegum? Cotton candy? Grape soda?”

“I don’t want to bathe in grape soda.” Lauren laughs. “Bubblegum?”

Camila nods, and gets it out of the box, grabbing Lauren by the hand and pulling her into Ally and Normani’s bathroom. She sends them both a text, but she knows that they’re both at class, so it doesn’t really matter.

Camila sets the bath bomb aside as Lauren starts running the bath. “Lo?”

Lauren doesn’t look back at her as she tests the temperature of the water. “Mhm?”

“Do you want to stay over again tonight?” Camila asks, “You know, since you would’ve just gone home after class, but we’re skipping…”

“Sure, babe,” Lauren smiles, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. “I’m down for that.”

Camila nods, and when she looks at Lauren’s position, she laughs. “Wow, I really want to push you in right now.”

Lauren looks affronted. “Wow, that’s abuse. I could sue you for that.”

“Remember that night we went clubbing?” Camila asks, laughing at the memory. “And you told me that you’d send me your medical bill if I caused you any damage?”

Lauren laughs lightly, turning around to check the water again as the tub fills up. “Yeah. Sorry about that night, you probably thought I was weird. I honestly didn’t plan on getting drunk; the idea was that I’d have a couple of drinks to lighten up and maybe it’d give me the confidence to talk to you.”

“But instead, you got yourself hammered and peer pressured me into awkwardly dancing with you,” Camila laughs, wondering how they’d looked to an outsider. “We probably looked ridiculous, because I don’t dance and you were drunk.”

“ _I don’t dance, I know you can_ ,” Lauren sings, and Camila rolls her eyes, figuring that she should’ve expected that reference. “I’m not much of a dancer myself. I did ballet for like five minutes as a child because my mom forced me into it.”

“Oh my god,” Camila _aw_ es at the mental image of a little Lauren Jauregui in a ballerina outfit. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

Lauren shrugs. “I only went because she’d buy me candy afterwards.”

Camila frowns. “You don’t like candy.”

“I did _then_ ,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “just not anymore. I’ve never really liked chocolate, though. I probably only like Nutella and Reeses because it’s nutty, so it’s like a mixture of salty and sweet. Like- like bacon with maple syrup.”

“You’re making me hungry,” Camila complains as Lauren turns of the taps and tests the water again. “Is it ready?”

“Mhm,” Lauren hums in reply, making as though she’s going to take her shirt off, but Camila grabs her by the wrists and shakes her head. “What?”

“I’m doing it,” Camila announces, before a bashful smile forms on her face and she adds, “if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m okay with it.” Lauren sends her a reassuring smile as Camila takes the affirmative and slowly lifts her t-shirt up. Camila points questioningly at a small scar just left of Lauren’s bellybutton, and the older girl shrugs easily and says, “I got that wrestling an alligator.”

Camila snorts, pulling Lauren’s t-shirt over her head. She blushes a little when she realises she’s not wearing a bra, but she tries to play it off and keeps her eyes strictly forwards. “Sure you did.”

“No, I totally did. The alligator came away looking worse, but like, I saved the day,” Lauren shrugs, stepping out of her pyjama shorts as Camila pulls them down. “For real though, I got that when Lucy accidentally stabbed me.”

Camila pauses, fingers at the waistband of Lauren’s panties. “ _What_?”

Lauren laughs. “I made that sound worse than it was. We were cooking together, she was behind me, I turned around and sort of… twirled into the knife? It was only really a cut, but it was deep enough to leave a scar.”

After a few moments of thought, Camila shrugs. “Well, you _did_ hit her with your car.”

“Oh, shut up,” Lauren rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe she told you that. _And_ it was only like, our second time meeting. _And_ she knew I liked you. Actually, now that I think about it, that’s a total best friend foul. Bitch owes me.”

Camila smiles, pulling Lauren closer by the waist. “No harm done. You’re still standing in front of me _almost_ naked.”

“Emphasis on _almost_ ,” Lauren shoots back, “hurry up, the bath will go cold.”

Camila just laughs, and takes her own pyjamas off quickly. Once she’s down to just her panties, she takes Lauren’s off for her, then quickly strips off her own and gets into the bath and under the bubbles before Lauren can really look at anything.

Lauren studies her for a moment, and even though she’s covered by the bubbles in the bath, Camila feels completely exposed. “What?”

Lauren just smiles. “You’re gorgeous.”

Brushing the compliment off, Camila sits up and makes space between her legs for Lauren. “Come on. Like you said, the bath will go cold if you don’t hurry up and get in.”

“One second,” Lauren rolls her eyes, and quickly takes her prosthetic off again. Using her right leg, she swiftly turns around and settles down into the bath, and Camila grabs her waist to support her.

Once she’s sat between Camila’s legs, the younger Latina smiles, and wraps her arms around her girl’s waist, resting her chin on her shoulder. “There we go. Can I wash your hair?”

Lauren hums. “Okay.”

“Perfect,” Camila smiles, grabbing some of Ally’s shampoo and rubbing it into Lauren’s hair. “You know, I really love taking care of my girlfriend. I know you’re all _independent woman_ , but sometimes I just… like to pamper you. You know? Treat you like a queen.”

After a few moments of silent consideration, Lauren laughs to herself. “Maybe you _are_ a top, after all.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “I still don’t see why it’s so hard to believe.”

“You’re tiny,” Lauren shrugs, “and cute. It’s just funny to think that you’re some secret seductress.”

“You best believe I am,” Camila pokes her in the side, and Lauren jumps, ticklish. “Just you wait for the day I prove it to you.”

Lauren laughs. “Like I’ve said many times; I think I’ve made it pretty clear what I’m down for.”

Camila smirks, but realises what day it is. “ _Ew_. I’m not sleeping with you for the first time on _Valentine’s Day_. That’s cheap and nasty.”

Lauren pouts. “But _Camz_. I thought you wanted to prove you’re a top.”

“Stop trying to seduce me, weirdo,” Camila laughs, tilting Lauren’s chin up by her thumb. “Head back. I’m going to wash the shampoo out.”

Lauren tilts her head back, and Camila scoops up some water in her hand and gently washes the shampoo out. “You know, even though I like being independent, I do like that you take care of me. But it’s because we’re on equal footing.”

“No, we’re not, you’ve only got one foot,” Camila jokes, and Lauren bursts out laughing, shaking her head and twisting around to send her a grin. Camila smiles sheepishly in response. “Sorry.”

“No, that’s why I like you,” Lauren smiles at her, “you don’t awkwardly dodge around things, and you make jokes that aren’t mean and I just… I don’t know. I think you’re perfect.”

Camila’s stomach squirms and flutters and she moves Lauren’s hair out of the way, before pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I think you’re perfect too. And I mean, I wouldn’t ever want to hurt your feelings over something you can’t help, so if I ever make a joke that goes too far, just like, punch me or something.”

Lauren snorts. “I’m not going to punch you. Besides, I don’t think you have the capacity to be mean.”

Camila shrugs, squeezing out some conditioner and running it through the ends of Lauren’s hair. “I’d never do it intentionally. I don’t know, I just never wanted to make you feel like it was a big thing, you know? Since it’s not. And I joke about everything else, so…”

“That’s why I like you,” Lauren shrugs, before her face sinks into a frown and she adds, “well, one of the reasons. Some people either act like I was never sick or they’re ridiculously accommodating.”

Camila laughs. “Or they have a creepy fetish.”

“Or that,” Lauren chuckles in agreement, “but you’re just… perfect. Not only in the way you are, but physically, too.”

Camila blushes at the compliment. “Well. That’s… thanks.”

Lauren squeezes her thigh underwater as Camila leaves the conditioner to set and quickly shampoos her own hair. “Aw, no need to be shy, Camz.”

“Me? Shy? Never.” Camila rolls her eyes, resting her chin on Lauren’s shoulder. She smiles, wrapping her arms around Lauren’s waist, before a realisation hits her and her eyes widen. “The bath bomb!”

She sits up and grabs it from the side, dropping it into the tub and smiling satisfactorily. Lauren raises her eyebrows. “Happy?”

“Very,” Camila smiles, assuming her earlier position and wrapping her arms around Lauren’s waist. “You can keep the other two bath bombs, by the way. I’m not going to use them.”

Lauren shakes her head. “They’re yours. Keep them here and then the next time we do this together, we can indulge in a bath bomb.”

Camila smiles. “Next time?”

“Yeah,” Lauren smiles, “since you won’t sleep with me, I’ve got to get my intimacy where I can.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “Oh, shut up. It’s not that I _won’t_ sleep with you, idiot. I just won’t sleep with you on _Valentine’s Day_. It’s tacky.”

Lauren hums, fingers tracing over Camila’s thigh under the water. “So, tomorrow?”

Laughing, Camila pulls her back gently and starts to wash the conditioner out of Lauren’s hair. “Someone’s eager. _Maybe_.”

“You’re driving me crazy, Cabello,” Lauren murmurs as Camila runs her fingers through her hair, making sure all of the conditioner is out. Once she reckons it’s fine, she smiles, kisses Lauren’s shoulder again, and gives her a small squeeze around the waist. “Are we getting out?”

Camila sighs, snuggling her face into Lauren’s neck from behind. “Only if we can snuggle once we’re all dried off.”

Lauren hums. “I think that can be arranged.”

Camila gets out of the tub and stretches, getting into the clean set of pyjamas she’d brought in with her. Lauren clearly hadn’t had the foresight, and she frowns at the pyjamas and fixes Camila with a pout.

The younger girl just laughs. “Forget to bring clean underwear?”

“I thought you had them,” Lauren answers, “go get them? I would get them myself but I don’t want to flash your roommates.”

“Nah, I like the view right now,” Camila teases her, but quickly smiles, helps Lauren out of the tub and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Be right back.”

She heads into her bedroom and goes into Lauren’s backpack, finding some underwear and pulling it out. Her eyes widen when she takes in the black, lacy thong, and she bites down on her bottom lip, the mental image of Lauren _wearing_ it making her stomach flip. She takes it through, and opens up the bathroom door, stopping at staring at Lauren wrapped up in a towel, sat on the edge of the now empty tub.

Lauren frowns at the awestruck expression on her face. “What?”

“You’re just… really beautiful,” Camila smiles, before grinning and adds, “maybe I have a _Lauren Jauregui_ fetish.”

“I think that’s an acceptable one to have,” Lauren grins up at her, “because lately I’ve developed a _Camila Cabello_ one.”

Camila smiles, and holds out Lauren’s panties. “There’s your delivery, ma’am.”

Lauren laughs as she pulls them on. “Of course you’d pick this pair.”

“Hey,” Camila holds her hands up in defence, “they were the first pair I grabbed.”

Lauren rolls her eyes and stands up, grabbing her pyjama t-shirt and putting it back on. She stretches, and Camila admires the nice view of her ass that she’s getting, as Lauren passes by her and gets to the door.

Lauren sends her a knowing grin and grabs her hand. “My eyes are a bit further up than that.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m not looking at them,” Camila shoots back, glancing up to meet her gaze. “Are you going to put some pants on, or are you going to just prance around my house in a thong?”

“The latter would be funnier,” Lauren muses, “but I think I’ll put my sweats on. And I don’t _prance_ , Cabello. I _strut_ , just like Sharpay tells me to in the _iconic_ classic, _Bop to the Top_.”

Camila snorts, pulling Lauren back into her bedroom and kicking the door shut behind them. She pushes Lauren up against it and smirks at her, cupping her girlfriend’s jawline and looking into her bright green eyes. “Let me take you out again.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows. “You had to attack me to ask me that?”

Camila rolls her eyes, pressing a kiss to Lauren’s jawline and tucking her hair behind her ear. “Fine. If you’re going to be _boring_ …”

“Hey,” Lauren pouts, pulling Camila back by the waist, “I’m the _epitome_ of fun, Cabello. Besides, I thought we said we were ignoring Valentine’s Day.”

“I didn’t mean today,” Camila quickly replies, “like, next week. A cute little date. Sound good?”

“Sounds glorious,” Lauren smiles, kissing her again, “Guess what?”

Camila smiles. “What?”

“I like you,” Lauren replies, kissing her cheek and taking her by the hand, pulling her onto the bed and snuggling up to her. “And Camz?”

“Mhm?” Camila hums, tracing patterns across the bare skin of Lauren’s hip. “What’s up?”

Lauren shifts, resting her head on her shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah,” Camila grins back, kissing the top of her head, “you too, baby.”

-

**24/02/17**

“Not that I don’t appreciate the romanticism, but you know you don’t have to wine and dine me before we sleep together, right?”

Camila snorts. “Who says that’s what we’re doing? For all you know, it could’ve been a lovely romantic gesture, and now you’ve gone and sexualised it.”

Lauren sends her a sceptical look. “I mean, you’ve made it pretty clear what you’re planning.”

“I know, but I want to wine and dine you to make you feel special, you know what I mean?” Camila shrugs. “I know it’s not like it’s a first date or whatever, and I’m obviously not going to sleep with you and then ghost you, but it’s still a special thing, right? At least, for me it is.”

“It’s special for me when the person is special,” Lauren shrugs, “I mean, you obviously fit that category, and I figured you wanted to take it slow, so I never really pursued it.”

“I wanted to take it slow so it meant more,” Camila answers, “The only person I’ve ever slept with was this fling between high school and college, and it didn’t really mean anything, and I kind of hated that. I _wanted_ it to mean something.”

“Understandable,” Lauren replies, taking Camila’s hand as they walk, holding her leftovers from dinner in her free hand. “Don’t worry, meaningless sex isn’t my thing.”

“I’m not worried, I know it’ll be special with you,” Camila flashes an easy smile, “everything is special with you.”

Lauren smiles as Camila unlocks the front door, following her inside. “You’re amazing, Camila.”

Camila’s stomach flips, and as Lauren puts her leftovers in the kitchen, she grins, and pulls her back by her arm, tugging her up the stairs. She kicks open her bedroom door and pulls Lauren inside, pushing her up against it and pressing a kiss to her jaw. “Is this okay?”

Lauren sucks in a shaky breath, nodding slowly. “Yeah, that’s…”

Camila smiles, kissing down Lauren’s neck and sucking on the older Latina’s pulse point. Her heart rate is high, and while Camila knows how to be rough, Lauren is precious to her, and she wants to be gentle and soft, to show how much she loves her.

“Come on, babygirl,” Camila murmurs against her skin, “let’s get you out of those clothes.”

Camila presses a soft kiss to her cheek and leads her over to the bed, fingers slowly unzipping Lauren’s dress at the back. She dots gentle kisses across the back of her girlfriend’s neck as the dress falls to the floor, and she pulls her hair out of the bun it’s up in, watching as it cascades down her back.

“You’re so beautiful,” Camila murmurs as Lauren steps out of the dress, and when she turns around to face her she fixes her with a small smile. Lauren’s fingers toy with the buttons on Camila’s shirt, and the younger girl smiles. “You can take it off.”

Lauren nods, and takes Camila’s shirt off her, tossing it across the room and pulling her down onto Camila’s bed. “You’re my everything.”

Camila grins, unbuttoning her jeans and wriggling out of them, before straddling Lauren’s waist and staring down at the most beautiful girl. She leans down and kisses her, fingers running through Lauren’s hair. “You’re fucking gorgeous. I can’t wait to appreciate every inch of you.”

Camila lets her hands wander, grazing the soft pale skin of Lauren’s body, and as she starts to grind against Lauren’s centre, the older girl grabs her hands and looks up at her, uncertain and _frightened_.

Camila easily smiles and kisses her innocently. “We can stop if you’re not comfortable.”

“I am,” Lauren murmurs in assurance, “it’s just- um, do you want me to keep my prosthetic on? I know that- that taking it off, it’s like, a turn off for some people and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Camila’s heart drops at the question, and she hates that Lauren even has to _ask_ that. “Baby. You know I don’t care either way. Whatever you want.”

Lauren looks in her eyes, as if she’s trying to detect any insincerity, and pushes herself up onto her elbows, kissing her. “Okay. I- I’m going to… um, take it off.”

“Wait,” Camila stops her, and Lauren sends her a cautious frown. “Can I do it?”

Lauren blinks in surprise. “Um… sure? Why do you _want_ to?”

“Because one of my favourite parts of being intimate with someone is undressing them,” Camila sends her a soft smile. “This is just part of that, right? I won’t touch it if you’re worried I might break it or something.”

After levelling her with a serious look for a moment, slowly, Lauren nods, looking rather bashful. “Um, sure. You can… do that.”

Camila beams, so grateful that Lauren trusts her like that. She shuffles down the bed slightly and frowns at the prosthetic, not really knowing where to start, but vaguely aware of what she’s supposed to do based on the many times she’s seen Lauren take it off.

She takes the little screw between her fingers. “I’m supposed to pull this towards me, right?”

“Mhm,” Lauren nods, still looking cautious. “Then you’ll hear a click, and you can unscrew the bottom from the top.”

Camila grins, doing as Lauren says and hearing the aforementioned click. As she unscrews the two parts, she chuckles and says, “Unscrewing the Lauren from the Camila.”

Finally, Lauren laughs, and sends her a soft, reserved smile. “You know, one of these days, you’re going to annoy me so much that I’ll kill you off. Only after you’ve taken out life insurance, though.”

Camila lets out a mock gasp as she sets the bottom half down. “Lauren Jauregui, you’d _never_ do that to me. You like me too much.”

“I guess that’s true,” Lauren reluctantly sighs, “um, this part is tight, because it’s like, a compression thing, so maybe I should take it off since you’re kind of… weak.”

“I’m nothing of the sort,” Camila laughs, pilling the top half of the prosthetic and frowning when it doesn’t budge. “That was just a warm up pull.”

Lauren chuckles, and nudges her hand away, pulling it off with apparent ease and passing it to Camila, letting her put the two halves together. “I told you it was hard.”

Camila scoffs as she screws the two halves together and leans the leg against her side table. “You only did it so easily because I loosened it up for you.”

“Sure,” Lauren sarcastically replies, sitting up and pressing a soft kiss to Camila’s jaw. “Now, where were we?”

Camila grins, pushing Lauren back against the headboard of the bed and straddling her waist again. “Somewhere around here.”

Lauren looks up at her with so much adoration that Camila finds it hard to believe. If she’s being honest, when she went into this school year, she didn’t expect that she’d be in a relationship with the most wonderful woman in the universe by second semester. She smiles, hands exploring Lauren’s body, appreciating every scar and stretch mark, because it’s a part of Lauren, and everything about Lauren is beautiful.

Lauren whimpers as Camila kisses her neck, grinding against her in just the right spot. “Camz.”

Camila smirks, and she reaches behind Lauren to unclasp her bra, taking it off her and tossing it across the room. She gazes at Lauren’s chest appreciatively, and even though she’s seen it before, it still takes her breath away. “You’re gorgeous, babygirl.”

Lauren gasps as Camila’s thumb grazes the sensitive peak of her breast, nails digging into Camia’s back as the younger Latina’s leg grinds against her centre. “Camz, I- can I... can I touch you?”

“Of course, mi amor,” Camila sends her a gentle smile, and Lauren nods, carefully flipping them over and dotting kisses down Camila’s chest. The younger Latina gasps at the feeling of Lauren against her, and Lauren sends her a cheeky grin as she walks her fingers down Camila’s stomach. “Don’t tease me, baby.”

Lauren hums, and hooks a finger under the waistband of Camila’s panties; she’d picked a blue lacy thong for the occasion. “Maybe I like to frustrate you.”

“Oh, no, baby,” Camila smirks down at her, “that’s not how this is going to work.”

Lauren smiles, and pulls Camila’s panties down. Her lips meet Camila’s collarbone as her finger teases her entrance, and Camila gasps, her fingers digging into Lauren’s back. She moans in ecstasy as Lauren’s thumb massages her clit _frustratingly_ slowly, and her girlfriend gently pumps two fingers into her centre, all while kissing and sucking her chest, leaving her mark. Camila rides Lauren’s fingers, gasping and moaning, and when she commands “faster” Lauren complies without question.

Camila’s walls begin to tighten around Lauren’s fingers, and her nails scratch her girlfriend’s back as she goes faster, knowing that Camila is teetering on the edge of pure bliss. She tangles a hand in Lauren’s hair as she falls over the edge, crying out her girlfriend’s name, and if she didn’t already know that she’s falling in love, she does after that.

She’s barely come down from her high when she’s flipping them over, pinning Lauren against the bed and dotting kisses across her beautiful body. She smiles as she kisses Lauren’s cute little tummy, and her hands trace down to tease Lauren over her panties.

“Camz,” Lauren gasps as the younger girl pulls her panties down and looks back up to meet her gaze with a smirk. “Touch me.”

Camila hums in mock thought, “Nah, I think I’d rather taste you.”

Lauren whimpers as Camila shuffles downwards, and the younger Latina pushes the older girl’s thighs apart, pressing a teasing kiss to the insides. She slowly makes her way up to Lauren’s centre, teasing her more and more, and Lauren is practically dripping by the time Camila teases her clit with a kiss.

“Camz, I _swear_ ,” Lauren starts, but cuts herself off with a moan when Camila’s tongue comes in contact with her clit. As if it’s a reflex, she buries her fingers into Camila’s hair and pushes her down more, eyes screwing shut.

Camila can sense that she’s close already with all the teasing, but she’s not done with her yet. She sucks on Lauren’s clit, pushing her closer and closer, the moans and whimpers coming from her girlfriend’s mouth the most beautiful symphony she’s ever heard, and when she’s just about to tip over the edge into ecstasy, Camila stops.

Lauren’s eyes snap open, and Camila smirks at her. The older girl opens her mouth, and Camila uses that as her opportunity, kissing her neck and sucking on the warm, pale skin as Lauren tries to grind against her leg, to give herself the release she desperately craves. Instead of being upset at the teasing, whatever complaint Lauren was about to let out dies in her throat, overcome by a loud moan. Camila smirks, and at the same time as she thrusts two fingers into Lauren’s centre and curls them in just the right place, she kisses her with everything she has, hoping the words she’s too scared to say will be conveyed.

Lauren falls apart in her arms, and Camila smiles, kissing her gently as she rides out her orgasm, and pulling her close as she tries to catch her breath.

“Thank you for sharing yourself with me, babygirl,” Camila murmurs, kissing the top of Lauren’s head. “I’m so grateful for you.”

Lauren seems at a loss for words, and she rests her head against Camila’s chest with a small, relaxed sigh. “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Camila laughs, trying not to let the compliment inflate her ego. “Me too, mi amor. And it’s because I care about you so much that it was so amazing.”

They lay in a comfortable silence, and for a few moments, Camila thinks that Lauren has fallen asleep, and just when she’s about to drop off herself, Lauren moves, pushing herself up onto her elbow and staring at Camila with so much admiration. “It sounds stupid, but you don’t know how much it means to me that you didn’t mind when I took my prosthetic off. I mean, I’ve known all along that you wouldn’t care, but… it’s just… I’ve never taken it off for sex before. I’ve always been so afraid to do it, and even though I know I _shouldn’t_ be insecure about it, I guess I always have been. But I think you might’ve just helped me get over that.”

“I didn’t do anything, beautiful.” Camila assures her, leaning over to kiss her girlfriend. “I’m just here to support you and cheer you on, and you know, care about you no matter what. Even when you’re inevitably on trial for manslaughter in the case of my death, my ghost will be cheering you on.”

Lauren laughs, sending her a fond smile as she shakes her head. “You’ve always got to turn a serious moment into a joke, huh?”

Camila smiles. “Not always. Just… ninety-nine percent of them.”

Lauren lays back down and rests her head against Camila’s chest, listening to the sound of her heart. “You’re clumsier than I am, you’ll probably be the manslaughterer.”

Camila just shrugs. “Well, if it’s an accident, at least you’ll forgive me and be my ghost lawyer.”

“Um, yeah,” Lauren laughs, “I don’t think I like you _that_ much.”

Camila lets out a gasp in mock offence. “Wow, I can’t believe you’d let your true feelings show the second you get in my pants. Just when I thought you weren’t that kind of girl.”

Lauren just laughs in reply, and snuggles up against her, and Camila feels really and truly content.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**3/03/17**

“Are you doing something with Lauren today?”

Camila shakes her head, shoving another mouthful of Lucky Charms into her mouth. “The only thing I’m doing is calling my family. Besides, I didn’t even tell Lauren it’s my birthday.”

Dinah frowns at her. “ _Why_? She’s your girl.”

“I know, but I didn’t want her to fuss about it, you know?” Camila shrugs. “It’s just my birthday, it’s no big deal.”

“It’s your  _twentieth_  birthday.” Dinah blinks at her in surprise. “It’s important. You’re no longer in your teens!”

“Yeah, but it’s not like it’s my twenty-first.” Camila easily responds, drinking the milk in her bowl and putting it in the sink. She grabs her backpack and shrugs it over her shoulder. “To me, it’s just another Friday.”

Dinah looks at her like she’s crazy. “Don’t you want to celebrate?”

“Nope,” Camila smiles, grabbing her keys, “but I  _will_  request pizza for dinner. See you after class.”

She heads out of the front door before Dinah can argue, or convince her to go out to a party, twirling her keys on her fingers as she heads towards campus and her first lecture of the day. It’s the second lecture for the one module she shares with Lauren, and she would’ve asked to walk to class with her, but she knows that Lauren had a 10AM lecture for one of her law classes, and Camila isn’t going to school  _two_  hours early just to walk there with her girlfriend.

She digs her phone out of her pocket as she walks, and decides to message Lauren, seeing if she’s out of class yet and if she wants to meet before class.

**_Camz (11:32AM): morning loser_ **

**_Camz (11:33AM): is ur first lecture over?_ **

**_mi amor (11:37AM): Ugh, no. Would’ve been out five minutes ago if some annoying ass bitch hadn’t asked a question when the professor asked if anyone had a question. Like, who does that? You wait until people leave and ask your stupid question directly, don’t make me listen to it._ **

**_Camz (11:39AM): im on my way to campus rn so let me know when ur away from the annoying question asker ;)_ **

**_mi amor (11:40AM): Just wrapping up now. Meet you by our lecture hall? I’m going to grab us both a drink on my way._ **

**_Camz (11:41AM): you’re too damn sweet_ **

**_Camz (11:42AM): how was class? what’s it about? was it interesting?_ **

**_mi amor (11:42AM): Not that interesting but got given a documentary to watch which is the best kind of homework. :)_ **

**_mi amor (11:42AM): But I definitely still prefer my law and gender class. I don’t really care about this business stuff and think it’s kind of a snoozefest._ **

**_Camz (11:43AM): is that ur fav part?_ **

**_mi amor (11:43AM): No, that’s criminology by far. Or the historical stuff we do in politics. I was thinking about taking a class about the politics and culture surrounding video games, because I don’t actually play them, so it might be interesting. But then next year is my last, so I don’t know how many credits I’ll need to graduate and which compulsory classes I’ll have to take._ **

**_mi amor (11:44AM): Anyway, enough about my snoozefest degree. What do you want to drink? And do you want me to grab a sandwich for you, or can I treat you to lunch after class?_ **

**_Camz (11:45AM): i think i might let you treat me to lunch after class_ **

Camila puts her phone away as she gets to the lecture hall, sitting down on the steps outside the door to the back row. She’s not waiting for long, because Lauren is the next one up the stairs, flashing her that adorable smile as she carries two coffee cups.

Camila stands up to greet her, eyeing the cups apprehensively. “Careful, don’t spill them on me.”

Lauren rolls her eyes, passing her the left cup. “Oh, shut up, that was  _one_  time.”

Camila hums happily, sipping the hot chocolate as Lauren sits next to her on the step. “I guess I can’t complain too much, since it’s the reason we met and all.”

Lauren smiles. “Exactly. Anyway, I have a proposal.”

“Isn’t it a little too soon for that?” Camila jokes, and Lauren just rolls her eyes, smacking her lightly on the arm. “Alright. What is it?”

“You’re coming back to my place after this class, and I’m  _making_  you lunch,” Lauren smiles, “Basically, I got a little carried away last night watching Gordon Ramsay’s YouTube channel, and now I lowkey want to switch my major and become a Michelin star chef. Maybe I can like, make a carbonara or something? I can’t make the  _pasta_  from scratch, but I can do the sauce.”

“God, you’re making me hungry,” Camila pouts, linking her arm through Lauren’s and resting her head on her shoulder. “Why do you want to be my personal chef today?”

“Because I like to cook and I want to do something nice for you,” Lauren shrugs, flashing her a small smile, “also, uh… I know it’s your birthday.”

“Oh,” Camila blinks in reply, before she comes to her senses and splutters out an apology, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and-”

“And it’s okay,” Lauren assures her, “I get it.”

“I can’t believe that  _traitor_  Dinah told you,” Camila rolls her eyes, “I’m so getting her back.”

Lauren frowns. “Dinah didn’t tell me. I just stalked your old Facebook, which,  _by the way_ , it’s not smart to leave it open for any old weirdo to scroll through. I could’ve been a stalker.”

“You probably  _are_  a stalker,” Camila teases her, “but if you get to stalk  _my_  old Facebook with the ugly photos, I get to stalk  _yours_. Send me the link right now or I’ll dump you.”

Lauren snorts. “You’d never, you like me too much.”

“Unfortunately,” Camila pouts, sipping on her drink, “but I deserve to see old embarrassing pictures of you.”

“Unfortunately for  _you_ , I untag myself from anything unappealing,” Lauren grins triumphantly, “ _but_ … maybe… maybe we’re on the right level now…”

Camila sits up in anticipation. “Level for what?”

“For me to show you my X Factor audition,” Lauren muses, looking like she’s considering it. “It’s either that or the embarrassing old Myspace page that I can’t delete because I can’t remember the password.”

“Oh my god,” Camila grins, “I feel like the Myspace would be embarrassing, because I’ve heard you sing before, and that’s definitely  _not_  embarrassing, because you’re damn good at it.”

“Aw, tanks, Camz,” Lauren sends her the cutest smile, and Camila’s stomach flips. “Alright. I’ll give you the Myspace name.”

Camila pulls up her browser and gets ready to type, but Lauren just keeps her mouth shut, silently snickering to herself. “Oh my god,  _tell me_.”

Lauren opens her mouth to tell her, but all that comes out is a laugh and, “it’s so bad, though. Like, even the username is bad.”

Camila rolls her eyes, standing up as the previous class starts leaving the lecture hall, holding out a hand to help Lauren up. “Just tell me!”

As they sit down in the lecture hall, Lauren bites down on her bottom lip before blurting out, “miamicutie1996.”

Camila cringes. “Oh, yeah, you’re right, that  _is_  embarrassing.”

Lauren rests her head on the desk and sighs. “I know. Oh my god. I was the worst eleven year old in the world.”

Camila brings the page up in Safari, and almost instantly, she cringes again, but it’s mixed with a laugh at Lauren’s mortification. She presses on the profile picture and laughs. “That looks like you, but like,  _not_  you. Like maybe a weird cousin.”

“Babe, I  _wish_  it was a weird cousin,” Lauren sighs, “can you believe I updated this until I was thirteen?”

“Ooh, bikini shots!” Camila teases her, pressing on the picture to make it larger. “Wow, you were scrawny.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Lauren pouts at her, “you were scrawnier.”

Ignoring the childish retort, Camila scrolls down to a few comments that Lauren had posted, and bursts out laughing. “ _Hey, waz up, it’s Lauren! I love, love, love your page, it’s so cute! And by the way, about the comment –_ spelled wrong _– you sent me, I can’t wait for High School Musical 2 either!_ Wow, you really haven’t changed, huh?”

Lauren laughs, swiping Camila’s phone from her hand as the younger girl wipes the tears of amusement out of her eyes. “Alright, that’s enough of  _that_.”

Camila snorts. “You kept asking people to comment you back. Did  _nobody_  reply to you or something? Then again, I’m not surprised they didn’t.”

Lauren punches her in the arm, but it doesn’t stop Camila from laughing. “Yeah, well… I bet you were more embarrassing since you still  _are_.”

“Bitch,” Camila kicks her in the shin, and Lauren kicks her back. “Hey,  _that’s_  abuse.”

As the professor walks in, Lauren sends her a scowl, elbowing her in the side. “No  _X Factor_  audition viewing for you.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “That’s not even  _embarrassing._  You have a great voice. It’s so raspy but then it’s also really smooth and I don’t know how that works exactly, but I just… really like it. It makes me happy. Like you.”

Lauren beams. “That  _almost_  makes me forgive you for mocking me.”

“I mean, I had a point,” Camila laughs, “you really  _haven’t_  changed, and you can’t argue that when you don’t shut up about the  _High School Musical_ franchise.”

“They’re  _iconic_.” Lauren rolls her eyes, as the professor calls for their attention. After opening her laptop, Lauren looks back over at her, and Camila can practically feel her gaze burning holes into the side of her head when Lauren smiles, leans in and presses a soft kiss to her cheek. “Happy birthday, baby.”

If she’s being honest, Camila isn’t paying much attention to the professor. She spends most of the class shooting glances over at Lauren, not able to comprehend her beauty, and how someone like  _her_  wants to be with  _Camila_. Really, she’s still in disbelief.

Once the class ends, Lauren looks over at her with an amused smile. “Want me to send you my notes? You know, since you spent maybe five minutes listening to the professor, and the  _other_  fifty five minutes staring at me.”

“Oh, shush,” Camila rolls her eyes, but glances down at the blank page on her notepad and sends Lauren a sheepish smile. “But I  _would_  appreciate it if you emailed me your notes.”

“Will do, babe,” Lauren flashes her a smile, packing her things away. Once she zips up her backpack and pulls on her bomber jacket, she stands and holds out a hand to Camila. “To my place?”

Camila nods, taking her head, and following Lauren out of the lecture hall. “Anyway, I know I spent most of the class staring at you, but I can’t help it, you’re too pretty. So, really, it’s  _your_ fault if I fail.”

Lauren snorts. “Alright, you tell yourself that.”

As they leave the building, Camila looks over at her girlfriend again. “What’re you doing for- um, next year? You know, like, living situation. When we were getting to know each other, you mentioned that Lucy and Vero were moving in together and Keana was moving in with her boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lauren shrugs, looking a little downcast, “I’ve been looking at studios, but I haven’t found anything yet.”

“Well, um, I haven’t… agreed on anything with the girls, and I was wondering if…” Camila bites down on her bottom lip, blurting out the words before she can chicken out, “if you wanted to find somewhere together.”

Lauren blinks in surprise. “Wait, really?”

“I- yeah,” Camila bites down on her bottom lip. “If you want, you know. Totally no pressure, if you think it’s too soon or something-”

“I’d love to.” Lauren quickly interrupts her, and Camila feels the relief rush over her. “Oh my god, I’d really love that.”

“Yeah?” Camila grins, swinging their hands as they walk. “That’s a relief. Okay, well, um, we should start looking for something.”

“I- um,” Lauren blushes a little, thumb running over Camila’s knuckles. “One bedroom or two?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Camila easily answers, and while she knows  _one_  would be less of an expense, if Lauren isn’t comfortable with that, she doesn’t mind. “I’m okay with either.”

“I think I quite like the idea of waking up next to you everyday,” Lauren muses, flashing her a small smile, “one bedroom is fine. As long as you’re cool with dealing with my cuddly ass every night.”

“I love the idea,” Camila smiles, squeezing Lauren’s hand, “and you know I’m just as cuddly, so it’s really not a problem.”

Lauren smiles, using her free hand to pull her house keys from her pocket. “Okay. Have you spoken to the girls about this? Like, that you wanted to live with me next year?”

“No,” Camila shakes her head, “I didn’t want to bring it up, in case you said no, because then they’d feel like they were the second choice. But now you’ve said yes, I’m going to tell them.”

“Okay,” Lauren hums happily, stepping onto the front porch and unlocking the door. She lets Camila in first, and steps in after her, closing the door behind her. “Anyway. Any requests for lunch?”

Camila frowns in thought, following Lauren into the kitchen. “An omelette?”

Lauren hums. “I think I can do that.”

As Lauren gets the ingredients out, Camila watches her with an expression that could only be described as  _heart eyes_. She rests her chin on her hands and gazes at her as she cooks, eyes raking over Lauren’s body, and she’s completely transfixed when someone nudges her.

“Yeah, I definitely agree, Camila,” Lucy loudly announces, “Lauren has a great ass.”

Camila blinks, snapping herself out of her trance, and scowls at the other girl. “Shut up, I wasn’t staring.”

Lucy snorts. “Might want to wipe that drool off your chin. Anyway, Lo, I’ll take an omelette as well.”

“It’s not your birthday,” Lauren rolls her eyes as she puts Camila’s onto a plate, passing it to her. “Call me next January.”

Lucy shoves her, and Lauren shoves back, rolling her eyes, before she sits down next to Camila and looks at her expectantly. Camila frowns at her as she chews. “What?”

“She’s waiting for you to tell her she’s the next Gordon Ramsay.” Lucy informs her, going into the fridge and pulling out a sandwich. “Otherwise she’ll start refusing to cook for you.”

“It’s amazing, Lo,” Camila assures her, taking another bite, “you’re definitely a five star chef.”

Lauren smiles satisfactorily, but scowls at Lucy when she bites into the sandwich. “Hey, that’s mine.”

“Didn’t see your name on it,” Lucy shrugs, taking another bite. “Anyway, I have class. What’re you making for dinner tonight?”

“Nothing. Ask Keana.” Lauren answers, looking over at Camila with a small smile. “I’ll be spending my girlfriend’s birthday with her.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure we’re just ordering pizza.”

“I don’t care,” Lauren smiles, “I want to spend time with you. And- actually, wait here.”

As Lauren gets up and leaves the room, Camila frowns, but finishes off her omelette, saying goodbye to Lucy when she leaves. She puts her plate in the sink and starts washing up, but like two seconds later, Lauren is shoving her out of the way.

“What?” Camila frowns. “You cooked, I might as well clean.”

“It’s your  _birthday_ ,” Lauren rolls her eyes, finishing up washing the dishes. “No manual labour for the birthday girl.”

“Fine,” Camila rolls her eyes, as Lauren pulls the plug out and lets the water go down the drain. As Lauren dries off her hands, Camila asks, “why’d you run off upstairs?”

“Oh,” Lauren laughs, grabbing the little box she’d left on the side before she’d pushed Camila away. “Here.”

Camila frowns at it. “You didn’t need to get me a present. I didn’t even  _tell_  you it was my birthday, so you know for a fact that I wasn’t expecting anything.”

“Well, yeah, but just- open it,” Lauren rolls her eyes, and Camila hesitates, because it looks suspiciously like a jewellery box. “Come on, open it.”

Finally, Camila bites the bullet and opens the case. Inside is a simple silver necklace, with a small crescent moon pendant. “You- you shouldn’t-”

“Oh, spare me the  _you shouldn’t have_  speech and let me put it on you,” Lauren rolls her eyes, taking it out of the box and stepping behind Camila slowly putting the necklace on while the younger Latina stands there, frozen in shock at the present. Once the necklace is clasped at the back, Lauren rests her chin on Camila’s shoulder and gives her a soft squeeze around the waist. “There. Perfect.”

“I- thank you,” Camila dazedly replies, turning around to look at Lauren, “it’s- I- it’s…”

Lauren chuckles at her speechlessness. “You’re cute. And you’re welcome.”

“It wasn’t a huge expense, right?” Camila asks, hoping she says no. “I don’t want you to spend lots on me. That’s why I didn’t tell you about my birthday.”

“It was perfectly reasonable,” Lauren assures her, squeezing her hand. “Anyway, do you want to head to your place?”

“Sure, baby,” Camila smiles, reaching up to play with the charm on her new necklace. “And- um, thank you for this. Again.”

“Seriously, no problem,” Lauren smiles, kissing her cheek. “Happy birthday, Camz.”

Camila smiles, pulling Lauren in for a tight hug. “I can’t believe I found my person in my first real relationship.”

Lauren hums. “First  _real_  implies that there’s been others. Do tell me your dramatic stories of girlfriends past.”

Camila laughs, shrugging lightly. “Not much to tell. I had a girlfriend for like, two months in the summer between graduating high school and starting here, and she was pretty much my first everything. Except for first kiss. That was with some guy in middle school and if I didn’t already know I was gay, I definitely knew after  _that_.”

Lauren laughs. “Yeah, I think everyone’s first kiss is pretty traumatic. Especially if you have it in middle school.”

“Anyway,” Camila takes her hand and pulls her towards the front door. “My place?”

Lauren doesn’t get a chance to reply before Camila is pulling her out of the front door.

-

**24/03/17**

“ _I’m sorry, I can’t meet you before class. Or at all.”_

“What?” Lauren frowns at the phone, double checking that she’s really on the phone with  _Camila Cabello_. The one who  _organised_  them meeting in the first place. “Why?”

“ _It’s- I need to go back to Miami,”_  Camila hurriedly replies, “ _my mom called, it’s my dad, he’s- oh god, he’s in the hospital and- and it’s bad, and-”_

Taking in the words, her heart hurting for the younger girl, Lauren nods. “Okay, I’m stealing Vero’s car and I’m coming with you. When’s the next flight? I have frequent flier miles to use so I can probably cover it at this point.”

 _“What- but- I couldn’t ask you to do that,”_ Camila stammers, clearly moving around and haphazardly throwing things into a case. “ _You don’t have to do that for me.”_

“You don’t have to ask me, because I’m doing it,” Lauren says, standing up from the couch and walking out into the hallway, quickly scrawling a note to Vero and apologising for stealing her car. “I’m coming with you, Camz. I’m not going to let you go through something like this  _alone_.”

There’s silence on the line, until Camila lets out a shaky smile. “ _You’re so fucking amazing.”_

“I try my best,” Lauren assures her, grabbing Vero’s spare car keys, “I’ll be five minutes, okay? Then I’ll help you pack and we’ll go for the next flight.”

“ _I- okay,”_  Camila replies, and Lauren hears some rustling as she grabs other things. “ _thank you so much, Lauren, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you_.”

“You don’t have to repay me,” Lauren is quick to reassure, “I’ll be there in five, okay?”

 _“Okay,”_  Camila sniffles, “ _see you in five.”_

Lauren is just about to jump in the car when she realises  _they’re going to Miami_. While she has clothes and a toothbrush at home, she sprints back up the stairs, grabbing her backpack and spilling the contents onto her bed. She puts her laptop back in there, and grabs the charger from the outlet by her bed, and picks up her book, ramming that back in as well. She does the same with her phone charger, earphones, car keys for her  _actual_  car back home, and grabs Nala, swinging the backpack over her shoulder as she runs out to the car. She starts it up, tossing her backpack and Nala onto the passenger seat and pulling out of the parking space.

For a moment, she considers driving recklessly, already behind on her five minutes promise, but Lauren has always been a cautious driver, and she knows Camila would prefer it if she was  _late_  than if she didn’t show up at all because she’d ended up in an accident.

Thankfully, traffic is light, and Lauren parks up in front of Camila’s. She gets out of the car, putting her things in the back, and searches up the next flight to Miami on her phone as she waits for the younger Latina to answer the door.

“Thank you for coming,” Camila says when she opens the door, her eyes red from crying. “I’ve just- um, packed some of my better clothes and my chargers and stuff.”

Lauren takes the case from her, and uses one hand to pull it out of the door; she takes Camila’s with the other. “The next flight is in two hours, so we’ll have time to get through security and maybe get you a comfort McDonald’s at the gate.”

Camila wipes the tears out of her eyes as Lauren puts the case in the back. “I just- I don’t even-”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anything,” Lauren runs her thumb over Camila’s knuckles in a manner she hopes is comforting, before she lets go and gets into the driver’s side. Once Camila is in the passenger seat, Lauren sends her a comforting smile, turning the key in the ignition. “I’m here for you, okay?”

“I just don’t know how I’d deal with it if- if he’s…” Camila’s eyes well with tears again, and Lauren wants to pull her in for a hug, but the best she can do is take one hand off the wheel and squeeze Camila’s thigh to assure her she’s there. “And what if we don’t make it? The flight is three hours and it’s not for another two…”

“Camz, baby,” Lauren murmurs, “I know I can’t  _make_  everything better, but we’re doing the best we can. We’re getting the next flight out which will get us there as soon as we possibly  _can_  get there.”

Camila looks over at her, and out of her peripheral vision, Lauren sees the tears rolling down her cheeks. “God, I must look so  _pathetic_  to you.”

Lauren frowns at her. “You don’t look at all pathetic. I’d be exactly the same if it were me.”

“But that’s the  _point_ ,” Camila insists, “it  _has_  been you.  _You_  were the one that was sick! I’m not even the sick one and I’m falling to pieces and-”

“And it’s a totally normal reaction.” Lauren finishes for her. “Honestly, it’d be more concerning if you were totally chill about it. And do you  _really_  think I held it together when I was sick?  _God_  no.”

Camila blinks her tears out of her eyes, frowning. “What? But you’re always so- so  _calm_.”

Lauren snorts. “You  _do_  realise you’re talking to the girl who had a panic attack because she misplaced her stuffed animal, right? Speaking of which…”

Lauren reaches behind her blindly until she feels the familiar softness of Nala’s fur. She gets a good grip, and holds the lion out to Camila. Camila just looks at her. “Um…”

“Cuddle her,” Lauren says, and when Camila doesn’t, she rolls her eyes. “Come on, don’t act like you’re too cool for it.”

“It’s not that, it’s just-” Camila still doesn’t take the cub, “obviously it’s really special to you, and I don’t want to… to like,  _defile_  that.”

“I wouldn’t offer if you weren’t special to me too.” Lauren smiles easily, “Also,  _she_ , not it. Besides, she’s surprisingly comforting. I have a hunch that she has magic powers.”

Hesitantly, Camila takes the stuffed animal from Lauren, who puts her other hand back on the wheel as they hit a red light. She watches, amused, as the younger Latina seems to stake the lion out, before slowly cuddling her to her chest. Lauren’s stomach flips at the sight.

The light turns to green, and Lauren starts to drive again. There’s a small, comforting silence covering them like a protective blanket, occasionally punctuated by Camila’s sniffles as she tries to calm herself down. Lauren knows it’s not easy for her; even though Camila seems to think she’s fine, she’s generally a pretty anxious person.

Just when Lauren thinks that Camila has fallen to sleep, the younger girl talks. “How’d you get Nala? Like… was  _she_  a childhood toy, or…?”

Lauren smiles at the question, thinking that it’s cute Camila wants to know. “She was a gift from a friend.”

When she doesn’t elaborate, Camila frowns at her. “Aren’t you going to go into detail? Was she a gift from an ex?”

Lauren shakes her head. “No, not from an ex.”

Camila pouts at her, and it’s the most animated Lauren has seen her since she’d picked her up. “Tell me.”

“Her name was Alexa. She was one of my friends on the ward,” Lauren says, and Camila looks like she’s about to apologise, to tell her that she doesn’t need to tell the story, but she  _does_. “She had leukaemia. She was seventeen, and like me, she didn’t want to be on the children’s ward. We got close. Bonded over how much hospitals and chemo sucks. About three months after I met her, she told me she was terminal, and she was using her wish to go to Disney with her family. She brought Nala back for me, because she remembered how much I liked  _The Lion King_ , and apparently they didn’t have any Simba toys out, as far as she could see. And four weeks later, I was a guest at her funeral.”

Camila stares at her, mouth open, eyes wide, head shaking, “You didn’t have to tell me that. I’m so sorry, I pushed you and-”

“You didn’t push me,” Lauren assures her, reaching a hand over and squeezing her thigh again. “Besides, I’d be a sucky friend if I just forgot about her. But that’s why Nala means a lot to me. I have something to remember her by. When she gave her to me, she told me it was because she wanted me to have something, for if I ever felt scared or alone. So, I pretty much never let Nala out of my sight.”

Camila frowns. “You feel alone a lot?”

“Alone, not so much, but  _scared_?” Lauren laughs a little. “I’m scared of all sorts. Heights is a big one. Small spaces. Oh, this is a funny one; I’m scared of the dark. When I was a little kid, I  _refused_  to sleep in the dark. I can’t remember when I got over that, to be honest. But I still don’t like going to the bathroom in the middle of the night, or going downstairs to get a drink. I always keep my back to the wall and my phone torch on to create a safe little bubble of light.”

Camila finally cracks a semblance of a smile. “That’s actually kind of funny. Mostly just because you walk around acting like a badass all the time.”

“Excuse you, I  _am_  a badass,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “you can’t  _act_  if you already  _are._ ”

“So, um, your friend… Alexa,” Camila starts, looking cautious, “tell me about… about a good time you had with her.”

Lauren hums in thought, stopping at another red light. Her gaze flicks to the time displayed on the car’s radio.  _An hour and fifty minutes until the flight leaves._  “One time we went shopping together. Sounds kind of lacklustre, but any time we hung out, one of our parents would be hovering in case something happened. But we managed to convince them to let us go out by ourselves, and it was the most  _normal_  I’d felt in months. I really needed that, you know? Just… to be a teenage girl, and not have to deal with all of this shit. She was actually the first person I came out to.”

“Yeah?” Camila plays with Nala’s tail, and Lauren smiles at the action. “Did you cry?”

Lauren snickers at the question. “Of course you’d ask that.”

“You seem like a crier,” Camila shrugs, sending her a weak, teasing smile as Lauren pulls into the short stay parking lot at the airport. “Funny coming from me right now, but you just seem like the kind of person who cries a lot.”

“You’re not wrong,” Lauren laughs, “and yeah, I did cry. She laughed at me and wondered why I was being so dramatic, but it was something that I never really wanted to accept about myself. I’m not even sure if I’d be out now if I hadn’t been sick, because when I thought I was going to die, liking girls didn’t seem like a big deal, so I told everyone. But, I mean, I shouldn’t have worried about it anyway, because it’s not like I’m  _not_  going to die eventually.”

Camila lets out a weak laugh. “Can we not talk about death, please?”

“Of course,” Lauren pulls into a space and turns the car off, hoping Vero won’t be too mad at her for stealing it. She sends her friend a quick text ( _Car’s in short stay parking lot at JFK. Sorry)_  before she grabs her backpack from the backseat and gets out of the car. She gets Camila’s case out of the trunk and locks the car, putting the keys in the front pocket on her backpack.

Camila gives Nala back to her, and goes to take her case, but Lauren just shakes her head, tucking Nala under her arm and grabbing the case before her girlfriend can.

“You can’t carry all of that,” Camila argues with her, “give me my case.”

“I can carry whatever I want,” Lauren retorts, walking towards the entrance to the terminal. She finds them a pair of seats and drops her backpack and Nala in one of them, leaving Camila’s case with her. “Wait there. I’ll get us tickets for the next flight.”

“Let me,” Camila stands up, digging a debit card from her pocket, “we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me, so-”

Lauren snorts. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Camila blushes. “Well, no, but… do  _you_?”

“Yes, actually. When we graduated high school, Lucy and I went on a  _very_  last minute trip to Hawaii.” Lauren tells her. “As in, the night before, I had no idea I’d be in Hawaii in the next twenty four hours. So I’ll go get us tickets, then we can get through security and get some chicken nuggets.”

Camila sighs in defeat, and sinks back down in the seat again. “Fine.”

Leaving the younger girl in a less than savoury mood, Lauren finds a customer services desk and gets them two tickets to Miami. She uses her frequent flier miles and gets a moderate discount, and takes the tickets back over to Camila, passing her one of them.

Camila stays sulking until they’re through security, but Lauren doesn’t really blame her. She tries her best to stay as perky and positive as she can, which is a little hard when she’s guaranteed to beep when she goes through the scanner because of the metal in her leg, and have to get an awkward pat down from the staff.

Once they’re through security, Lauren holds her grumpy girlfriend’s hand, telling her stupid stories about idiotic things she did when she was a kid. She tells her about the time she sold her brother’s toys on the streets, the time she sold  _rocks_  from her yard with a few faces painted on them, and the time she cracked her head open on a goalpost while playing soccer. The last one gets a small smile from her, at least.

“You’re giving me your details so I can transfer you the money for my ticket,” Camila says, and Lauren just nods, knowing that there’s no use arguing. “Anyway, I think I was promised some nuggets.”

Lauren laughs, following Camila’s gaze and looking at the big yellow M. “Alright. Let’s get that, and then we can find the gate. You want to just get a share box and some fries?”

“Yeah,” Camila nods, and stands up from the pair of seats they’ve found. “You stay there. I’ll get it.”

“Are you sure?” Lauren asks, not letting go of her hand or bothering to sit back down. “Don’t you want to relax a little?”

“You’re so sweet,” Camila smiles at her, the first  _real_  smile of the whole day, “and you’ve been so perfect all day, but I’ll do this.”

Lauren nods. “Alright.”

Camila pulls her in for a quick kiss, and Lauren sighs happily. “Be right back, okay?”

Lauren watches as she walks towards the McDonald’s, admiring the way her hips move, if she didn’t know Camila, she’d have gone as far as to call her graceful. But Karla Camila Cabello Estrabao is the  _farthest_  thing from graceful, as she proves five seconds later when she trips over her own feet.

She looks back, as if she’s hoping that Lauren hadn’t seen that, and the older girl just laughs when she meets her gaze. Camila blushes embarrassedly, sticks her middle finger up in Lauren’s direction, and disappears into the crowd.

Lauren watches after her, sighing happily. “God, I love her.”

-

After a smooth flight that feels a  _lot_  longer than three hours, they head out of the departure gates, as they both only travelled with a carry on. Lauren calls a cab for them, and gets it to her parents’ house, assuring Camila that she won’t get caught up with her family, because nobody will be home.

She quickly pays the cab driver once they arrive, thanking every powerful force on earth that her mom’s car isn’t in the driveway. She runs inside and accesses the garage, opening it from inside and pulling out onto the main driveway. Hopping out of the car, she assures Camila that she can get in, and shuts the garage door behind her. She leaves it unlocked, hoping that her parents won’t go in there for any reason, and jumps back into the driver’s seat, Camila’s case and her backpack haphazardly thrown in the back seat.

“Do you know which hospital he’s in?” Lauren asks, hooking her phone up to the GPS. “I’m guessing he’s in Mercy, right?”

Camila nods helplessly, the reality of it all hitting her once again. “Yeah. Oh,  _god_ , Lauren, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Everything will be alright,” Lauren assures her, “I know when stuff like this happens, you sort of… associate it with the worst possible scenario, but that’s not always the case.”

“But what if it  _is_  the case?” Camila looks at her, horrified. “What if I get there and he just  _flatlines_?”

Lauren sighs, because she’s trying not to be like  _then it happens and that’s that_ , but that’s how she thinks. It’s the same argument she uses with her mother when she’s ranting about cancer recurrence; if it happens, it happens, and you have to grit your teeth and deal with it.

“Then I’ll be right there with you through it all.” Lauren finally answers, glancing over at Camila with concern. “I know it sucks, but one day… one day we’re going to have to say goodbye to our parents. And I  _know_ , it’s the worst, but that’s how it’s supposed to be. But I will be here for you  _if_  that happens.”

Camila blinks, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t know how I would be coping right now, if I hadn’t met you.”

“You’d be coping just fine,” Lauren assures her, “because you don’t need me to be strong.”

Camila bites down on her bottom lip. “You really believe that?”

“Of course I do,” Lauren smiles, “that’s why I like you. Because you don’t  _need_  anybody. You’re emotionally mature enough that you don’t need to depend on anyone, which is good, because I am too.”

“Oh?” Camila frowns to herself. “I didn’t… really think that about myself.”

Lauren just shrugs. “That’s what I like about you, because a relationship isn’t a dependency, it’s a partnership.”

“Partners in crime,” Camila comments, and Lauren grins at the words. She glances over at her girl again, and she’s picking at a loose thread in her jeans, still downcast. “While that  _is_  the case, I still appreciate you coming with me.”

“No worries, baby,” Lauren assures her, pulling into the hospital parking lot. “I know you’d do the same for me.”

Camila just smiles, a little weakly, and rests her head against the window. Lauren pulls into a parking space, and turns over to Camila, holding out her hand. The younger girl takes it, and sends her another smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Do you want me to leave you here?” Lauren asks. Camila’s grip on her hand tightens, and Lauren traces patterns across her knuckles with her thumb. “If you want to just… be with your family.”

“No,” Camila looks up at her with wide eyes. “Please don’t leave.”

Lauren nods, and lets go of Camila’s hand to get out of the car, but the younger Latina grabs it again as soon as she’s close enough. Lauren squeezes her hand as they walk into the ER, and they’re walking to the desk to talk to the receptionist, when Camila is ambushed by Sinu, pulling her into a hug.

“Do you know anything?” Camila asks, dropping Lauren’s hand to wrap her arms around her mother. “Is he okay?”

“He’s alive, but…” Sinu meets her daughter’s gaze with teary eyes, “they’re not sure at the moment.”

Camila buries her face into her mother’s neck, and Lauren feels like she’s trespassing on an intimate moment, and goes to sit down. Before she can, Sinu pulls her in for a tight hug, mumbling, “thank you for being here for her,” and Lauren just nods, hugging her back, and hoping that the words  _I love her_  are conveyed.

They sit down, and Camila turns to her mother, “does Sofi know?”

“She’s with your abuelita,” Sinu says, “she picked her up from school. She doesn’t know anything yet.”

“Sinu Cabello?” A nurse comes out of the double doors to the right of them, and Lauren grips Camila’s hand again. “You can come through and see your husband now. We’ve got him in a room.”

Sinu looks to Camila, whose shaky hand is still locked in Lauren’s. “Mija? Are you coming?”

“I- yeah,” Camila nods, and glances over at Lauren. “I’ll- I’ll be back in a little while.”

Lauren gives Camila’s hand one last squeeze before letting go. “Go and be with your family.”

She watches as Sinu and Camila follow the nurse through the doors, before pulling her phone out of her pocket. She chuckles lightly at the angry texts from Vero, mostly calling her a bitch for stealing her car, and she figures she deserves that.

She plays a couple of games on her phone, occasionally pausing to people-watch. It’s funny; Lauren  _hates_  it when people stare at her, yet she openly stares and daydreams at everyone else. She’s in the middle of making up a dramatic backstory for a man sat across the room reading the paper, when Camila walks back out of the double doors, unaccompanied by her mother.

Lauren looks up hopefully, but Camila’s expression remains solemn. “He’s just- it looks like he’s just sleeping, even though it’s- it’s a coma.”

Camila sits next to her, and Lauren leans in, kissing her on the cheek. “I’m so sorry, Camz. But keep positive, baby.”

“It’s just so hard to think about anything else,” Camila mumbles, “is it okay if we stay for a while? Just in case anything… happens. Good or bad.”

“Of course,” Lauren squeezes her hand. “We’ll stay as long as you need.”

Camila nods, meeting Lauren’s gaze with those teary brown eyes. “Thank you. Can you- um, maybe distract me or something, like-”

“Lauren?”

Both Lauren and Camila look up in surprise at the sound of the voice, and the older Latina grins, standing up to hug a woman in scrubs. “Hi, Ashley. How’ve you been?”

“I’m good!” The woman – Ashley – replies, smiling at Lauren. “Haven’t seen you round here for a while. Which is a good thing, of course. How did that PET scan go? Kehlani mentioned she saw you when you came in for it.”

Lauren hastens a sideways glance at Camila, whose eyes widened considerably at the words  _PET scan_. “Fine. Everything was all clear. Anyway, um- Ashley, this is Camila, my girlfriend. Camz, this is Ashley. She was one of my nurses when I was sick.”

Camila sends a polite smile Ashley’s way. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Ashley smiles, before she looks back at Lauren, “anyway, it’s good to see you again, Laur. I’ve got to go see a patient.”

As Ashley leaves, Lauren sits back down, and Camila turns on her, sending her a stern look. “You were in here for a PET scan. Why didn’t you tell me? Was it before we met?”

Lauren holds her hands up in defence. “Relax, okay? I didn’t tell anyone. It was during Christmas break. I had a really bad pain in my ankle that lasted a couple weeks, and I figured I’d come here and get it checked just to be safe.”

Camila raises her eyebrows. “ _And_?”

“And it was nothing.” Lauren answers, and Camila sends her a disbelieving look. She smiles a little, thinking that the worry in her eyes is kind of cute. “Really. It’s  _nothing_ , Camila. I promise you. It’s recommended I get checked up every six months anyway, just to make sure. It was just a small sprain from when I twisted my ankle while hunting for my present in my parents’ wardrobe. Thought I heard a car door shut and didn’t want to get caught snooping, and I moved too fast. You don’t need to worry about me, Camz. But if you really don’t believe me I’ll show you the results.”

“I just care about you,” Camila just mumbles to herself. “I guess I’ve just got this weird sense of… of  _whatever_  ever since I met your mom and she was throwing statistics left and right.”

Lauren snorts. “Just ignore her. She’s really into google searching and freaking herself out. Don’t let that freak  _you_  out, though. I’m just like  _cool, mom, but how statistically likely is it that I’m going to drop dead out of sheer boredom from this conversation?”_

Camila sends her a weak smile, but blurts out, “Sorry I dragged you here. I guess in all my panic I just- I forgot that you probably sent enough time stuck in here when you were sick, and I’m just dragging you here because I selfishly wanted some moral support.  _And_  let’s not forget that you’re skipping school.”

“We’re college kids, Camz,” Lauren points out, “we’re  _supposed_  to miss school. And yeah, I don’t particularly like hospitals, and you’re right, I’ve spent enough time here, but you’re my girl and I’m here for you, and you didn’t even  _ask_  me to come. I just  _did_ , so none of this is you being selfish, because you  _wouldn’t_  have asked.”

Camila sighs, resting her head on Lauren’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Lauren says, running her fingers through Camila’s hair, and it’s so comforting that Camila practically  _purrs_. “Besides, a lot of the time I was at home, and I just came in for chemo. I only really stayed overnight when they took the leg. And at that point before that when it was really bad and they thought I’d… um, but I don’t really remember much of that because they had me knocked out on painkillers.”

“I just…” Camila sits up and examines Lauren, reminding herself that she’s  _fine_ , she’s  _healthy_ , and  _she’s not going to like it if you turn into her mother and start constantly worrying about her._ “I don’t like the idea of you having to go through something like that. But you  _did_. You’re so much braver than I am.”

Lauren scrunches her nose up in disgust, thinking back to the cringeworthy posts from people she hardly  _knew_  from school, posting things on her Facebook wall and telling her how brave she was. “Don’t get me started on  _that_. I  _hated_  that, people telling me I was  _brave_. Like, no, I wasn’t. I was just doing what I had to do to live. A lot of my mom’s friends were making out like I was this big inspiration, but I’m really not. I’m just playing the cards I was dealt.”

“Fine,” Camila pauses in thought, “how about  _badass_?”

“Oh, I’ll  _totally_  take that,” Lauren grins at her, squeezing her thigh comfortingly. “For real though, it took me a long ass time to realise that I don’t have to be an inspiration to cancer kids everywhere, but I  _also_  don’t have to be bitter about the fact that I got sick. It’s just something that happened, and it  _happened_  to happen to me.”

Camila laughs softly. “That’s a lot of  _happens_.”

Lauren smiles at her, happy to hear her laugh. “My point is, it happened, so there’s no use being extra about it. Besides, I met some cool people around the hospital because of it,  _and_  whenever rude people bluntly ask what happened to my leg, I get to make up all sorts of dramatic stories.”

Camila cracks a real, genuine smile. “Yeah? Like what?”

Lauren hums in thought. “One time I told a kid I was part robot and if they asked anyone else personal questions I’d shoot them with my laser eyes.”

“ _Lo_ ,” Camila lets out a dramatic gasp, “that’s mean. They’re just a kid, they don’t know.”

“Yeah, but it was right after the amputation, and one of the first times going out with the prosthetic, and I was more than a little salty about it.” Lauren defends herself. “Besides, I think the most recent story was when this drunk girl at a party asked me about it, and I told her a shark bit it off. And I told Mani that it was a rollercoaster accident. Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever told her the real story.”

Camila snorts. “To be honest, that’s more of an interesting story. Why didn’t you tell me something like that? You could’ve impressed me with a huge tale about how you single-handedly fought off an alligator.”

“Because,” Lauren shrugs, a smile toying at the corner of her lips, “I actually liked you. I didn’t want a possible relationship founded on a  _lie_ , Camz. One day, you might call me for an alligator related problem, and I’d be like  _fuck_ , _gotta tell her the truth._ ”

Camila smiles, and she feels genuinely happy for the first time since she got that awful fucking call about her dad. It’s like all the worry had left her body for a moment. Sure, she knows it’ll be back, but for the moment, it’s nice. “I love how easy it is for you to make me feel better.”

“Duh,” Lauren kisses her cheek, “I’ll do whatever I can to make you smile.”

Camila takes Lauren’s hand, feeling comforted to know that her girlfriend is here with her, that Lauren  _isn’t_  just going to disappear, that she’s not going to get sick again, and that no matter what, she’ll always bring a smile to her face.

-

**27/3/17**

Camila hasn’t relaxed at all since getting back to Miami. It’s been three days, and her dad still hasn’t woken up, and as each day passes, she loses a little more hope. She’s scared, and she feels so alone, because she’d told Lauren to go home and see her family; Camila had brought her back to Miami, and she should spend at least a couple of days with her family, but she wishes she  _hadn’t_ , because she missed the support and comfort of her girlfriend’s presence.

For some reason, Lauren has this calming effect on her, and there’s no doubt in her mind that she’s Camila’s person. She wants to call, but she knows she shouldn’t when she’s the one who told Lauren to go home and see her family.

Almost as if she’s read Camila’s mind from twenty minutes across town, the younger Latina’s phone buzzes with a text.

**_mi amor (1:22PM): Are you feeling okay? Need me to come over?_ **

**_Camz (1:23PM): yes please im still not good_ **

**_mi amor (1:23PM): Understandable. On my way now._ **

Camila smiles down at her texts, comforted by the idea that Lauren’s coming over. She settles down on her chair and pulls her blanket over her, turning back to the movie that she’s watching with her sister. Sofi doesn’t entirely understand  _why_  their dad isn’t here; she knows he’s in the hospital, but because Sinu won’t let her see him, she thinks he’s just a little ill, and will be fine in a few days, and Camila isn’t going to make her sister feel the way she does right now.

“Hey, Kaki, when are you going back to school?” Sofi asks, “I thought you were supposed to be there right now.”

“Um, I’m going back when papi… says it’s okay,” Camila explains, shrugging. She’d emailed and let her professors know that she’s back in Miami for a family emergency, and they’ve promised to email her the work she’ll need to catch up on for however long she’s gone.

Lauren, on the other hand, had pulled the disabled card, and lied about an important hospital appointment, even though Camila told her that she was okay, that she should go back to school. Lauren had refused, and easily lied to professors, which makes Camila think it’s not her first time doing it.

“Oh.” Sofi answers. “Is Lauren coming over?”

“Mhm,” Camila hums in reply, “she’s on her way now.”

Sofi snorts. “Don’t make out in front of me.”

Camila sticks her tongue out at her little sister. “I’ll do what I want. Respect your elders, Sofia.”

Before Sofi can retort, there’s a knock on the front door, and Camila jumps up to answer it, letting Lauren in and pulling her in for a tight hug. “Hi, Camzi.”

“Hey,” Camila mumbles into Lauren’s shoulder. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

Lauren wiggles her eyebrows, smirking at her. “I’d like that.”

“Oh, shut up,” Camila shakes her head, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know, I know,” Lauren answers, following her up the stairs and into her bedroom. “Are you going to see your dad today?”

Camila shakes her head. “My mom doesn’t want me to go to the hospital until he wakes up. Or if…”

Lauren shoots her a sympathetic look as Camila collapses onto her bed, bundling under the covers. She hasn’t bothered getting dressed today, and she hopes that Lauren had brought some pyjamas with her, because she just wants to snuggle.

“Come cuddle me,” Camila announces, not wanting to think of the worst case scenario, “if you don’t have any comfy clothes you can steal a t-shirt and pyjama shorts from my drawer. Sorry I didn’t tell you to bring anything.”

Lauren flashes her a small smile. “It’s okay. I’ll just steal some shorts and keep my t-shirt on, because I’m not wearing a bra under here.”

Camila chuckles a little. “When are you ever?”

Lauren laughs, digging through Camila’s drawers, and grinning when she pulls out the  _Lion King_  shorts. “True.”

Camila snuggles rests her head on her pillow as she watches Lauren change into the shorts, before she sits down on the bed, takes her prosthetic off, stretches and snuggles under the covers next to her.

While Camila usually holds Lauren, today the older Latina pulls Camila close, holding her in her arms. Camila hasn’t ever felt that safe before, and while she’s adamant that she’s the top, sometimes she likes being taken care of too.

“I like this,” Camila murmurs against Lauren, “being close to you.”

“Yeah?” Lauren smiles, fingers tracing over Camila’s hip, just above the hem of her pyjama shorts. “Me too. I’m glad it makes you feel better.”

“You always make me feel better,” Camila mumbles, closing her eyes. “You’re just… you’re mine, you know? You’re my person and I just… I want a life with you.”

Lauren is unnaturally quiet for a while, and Camila’s heart races. She’s paranoid that she’s said too much, that Lauren will freak out, and she opens her mouth to apologise, but Lauren speaks before she can. “I have something to tell you.”

Camila looks up at Lauren, and she can’t read her demeanour at all. Her facial expression is completely unreadable, and immediately, the fear strikes. “You’re sick again.”

“What?” Lauren’s nose crinkles in confusion. “No. Weirdo.”

“Well you’re looking at me like you’re about to die,” Camila rolls her eyes, “you can’t blame me for thinking.”

Lauren snorts. “No, I’m fine. Pinky promise. I… have something different to tell you.”

Camila blinks. “You killed someone.”

“Why are you just jumping to the  _worst_  possible scenarios?” Lauren laughs, giving her a playful shove, “Just shut it for a minute and let me tell you this thing.”

Camila lets out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Go ahead.”

After a few moments, Lauren sends her that soft, reserved smile and murmurs, “I’m in love with you.”

Without hesitation, and trying to ignore the way her heart is soaring and her stomach is fluttering, Camila blurts out, “wait, really?”

Lauren lets out an awkward laugh. “Yeah, really.”

“Oh,” Camila blinks, the words finally sinking in. “Wow.”

Lauren clears her throat, shifting against her, clearly not knowing what to say to that. “Um, yeah.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Camila realises, a laugh escaping her before she can help it. “Of course I’m in love with you too.  _Duh_.”

Lauren breathes out a sigh of relief, and Camila hadn’t realised how tense she’d gotten until that tension disappears and her girlfriend relaxes next to her. “Thank  _god_. For a minute, I thought you weren’t going to say it back and I’d made everything awkward.”

“Obviously I love you,” Camila rolls her eyes, “you’re like, literally the perfect human. I’m surprised the entire world isn’t in love with you.”

Lauren blushes. “Well, I wouldn’t say  _that_ , but… thanks. Besides, I’m far from perfect.”

Camila just shrugs. “I mean, perfection is a subjective concept, but I think most people could agree that you’re a pretty good definition. And for someone who claims she doesn’t know how to be a girlfriend, you’re doing pretty well.”

Lauren laughs. “No, I  _do_  know how to be a girlfriend. It was when I was with Lucy that I didn’t. That’s like the whole reason we broke up.”

“I just… can’t imagine you not knowing that,” Camila answers, looking up at Lauren and tracing patterns over her stomach under her shirt. “You’re like, the definition of the world’s best girlfriend. You literally flew down here just to support me because of… um- yeah, you’re just… you’re just really good at it.”

“You’d do the same for me,” Lauren shrugs like it’s no big deal, like she hadn’t used up her frequent flier miles just so Camila wouldn’t have to spend much to get back to Miami. “But the whole reason that Lucy and I broke up was because I wasn’t in the right state of mind for a relationship. I mean, I’d just been through hell, and I was super insecure, and she felt like she was taking advantage of me. And honestly? I needed to just… work on myself. I had to be my best self before I could give someone else the love they deserved. For other people it’s different, but I really needed that self-love first.”

“I like that,” Camila murmurs, kissing Lauren’s cheek, “I like that you know how amazing you are.”

“Obviously,” Lauren jokingly replies, but laughs Camila’s comment off and adds, “no, I’m definitely happier than I’ve ever been. Part of that is because of you. You see me the way I truly am and that’s just… that’s better than how- how some people put their crushes or whatever on some kind of pedestal. Because for the longest time, I did that, and it was never healthy.”

“I’m guilty of that too,” Camila awkwardly chuckles, “like, when I was younger, I’d act like my crushes were these flawless beings, but that’s because I never approached them. I liked the idea of them, the version of them that lived in my head. But  _loving_  someone is loving the real them, and I love you even though you spill coffee on me and hit me with doors and you’re weirdly into  _High School Musical_  for a twenty year old.”

Lauren lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “Coffee was a joint effort, the door was an accident and it’s the best musical franchise to ever exist, so keep your annoying mouth shut, thanks.”

Camila just laughs. “Let’s not forget about the time you hit Lucy with your car.”

“Oh my  _god_ , it was an  _accident_ , it’s not my fault I can’t feel pressure in my prosthetic and I pressed too hard on the pedal,” Lauren rolls her eyes, “You know what? I think I’m going to take back my  _I’m in love with you_. Yeah, it’s recently come to light that you’re actually an asshole.”

Camila pouts. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

After a few moments, Lauren relents, sending her a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Anyway, I can’t really blame you for making me fall for you,” Camila sighs happily, the words  _Lauren loves me_  and not much else bouncing around her head. It’s the first time she’s felt  _genuinely_  happy in the last few days. “You’re the best person on the planet, and it’s not putting you on a pedestal if it’s true.”

Lauren just chuckles. “To you, maybe that’s true. It’s so weird, how different people have different perspectives on us. Like, you  _love_  me – and no, I won’t stop saying it – but... I don’t know, the girl on my old softball team who wanted to be captain over me probably hated me because I was better than her. Still  _am_.”

Camila snorts. “I thought you hadn’t played softball for years.”

“I haven’t, I’m just that good,” Lauren brags, before she laughs to herself and shakes her head, “no, I don’t know how I’d play now. I never got back into it.”

“Maybe we should have a game?” Camila offers, “I mean, I don’t know the rules or anything, and you’ll definitely win either way, but…”

“Nah,” Lauren shakes her head, “something tells me you wouldn’t enjoy it. Besides, I haven’t played in like four years, so you might beat me, and that wouldn’t be great for my self esteem.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “Weren’t you like, the star athlete? I can barely  _walk_  without tripping. I’m sure you’d kick my ass, even if you  _are_  a little rusty.”

Lauren just shrugs. “I guess we’ll never know.”

“Wait a second,” Camila realises, “aren’t sports people usually like, super competitive? Perfect. Maybe I  _will_  kick your ass. Finally show you who the boss is. Yeah, I’ll beat you on your own turf, and then I’ll be able to hold it over you, and-”

“Obviously, we won’t be able to play a proper game, being that there’s only two of us.” Lauren interrupts her, frowning in thought as she sits up and starts putting her prosthetic back on. “Maybe we could do like, a one on one kind of thing. Like, one of us bats, one of us pitches, and whoever pitches has to get the ball before whoever bats runs past all the bases. It’s not really a proper game of anything, but it’s the best we could do.”

Camila smirks to herself as Lauren takes off the borrowed pyjama shorts and puts her regular ones back on. She pulls on her knee-high socks, stretching, and Camila enjoys the view, still smirking to herself. “I can’t believe you fell for that.”

“Fell for what?” Lauren frowns at her, walking towards the door, “Aren’t you coming?”

“Wow, okay,” Camila snorts, grabbing a pair of shorts and tugging them on. “I used your competitiveness against you and reverse psychology or whatever, and you actually fell for it.”

“I didn’t fall for anything,” Lauren scoffs, quickly tying up her shoes as they get to the bottom of the stairs. “You challenged me and I accepted. That’s all there is to it.”

Camila rolls her eyes in response, knowing that Lauren can be incredibly stubborn, and decides to drop it. She unlocks the door to the back yard, and walks over to the shed. Half of it is packed with pool inflatables, but the other half has some of Camila’s old toys she used to play with as a kid, and she  _knows_  she has a baseball bat, because she used to play games kind of like Lauren had described with her neighbour.

“Oh, nice,” Lauren grabs the bat, giving it a swing, “a little light, but I’m guessing it’s a kid’s toy.”

“Yeah,” Camila responds, grabbing the only ball she can find, a tennis ball. “Will this work?”

“Sure,” Lauren nods, before she swings the bat again and sings, “ _I don’t dance, I know you can_.”

Camila laughs, sending a fond smile in Lauren’s direction. “How did I ever find you intimidating?”

“Can I just say that’s the  _gayest_  scene in cinematic history?” Lauren announces, and Camila chuckles, wishing she could take a snapshot of this moment to send back to her past-self, when she was just getting to know Lauren, to assure her that she’s not at all scary. “They’re legit wearing each other’s  _clothes_  after. The  _real_  love story of  _High School Musical_ ; Ryan and Chad.”

“Oh my god, can we just play the game?” Camila asks. “Write an essay if you’re so passionate about it.”

Lauren fixes her with a glare. “Alright, fine, if  _you_  don’t care, maybe I’ll go play with someone else.”

Camila bursts out laughing. “God, how old are you? Twenty or ten?”

Lauren flashes her a smile, but it’s not teasing or amused. It’s soft and reserved, and it makes Camila’s heart soar. “I really love your laugh.”

Camila’s stomach flips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lauren confirms, taking her hand and swinging it between them as they get a good enough distance away from the pool. “How are we going to mark the bases?”

“Um…” Camila frowns in thought, “hold on.”

She leaves Lauren by herself for a few moments, running back to the shed and grabbing a few deflated inflatable animals to mark the bases. She drops them on the floor at a decent distance apart in a diamond shape, and then takes the bat from Lauren, passing her the ball. “I get to hit first.”

“Wait, how are we going to play this?” Lauren asks, tossing the ball between her hands as Camila gets ready to hit. “How about… you bat three times, then I bat three times? Three tries for three rounds. To get a point, you need to make it all the way around the bases.”

Camila nods. “Okay. Throw it, I’m ready.”

Lauren raises her eyebrows, but nods, pitching the ball to her. Camila swings the bat as hard as she can, but the ball sails past her and into the fence. Camila cringes, hoping that her neighbours aren’t in their garden, but she mostly feels embarrassed as Lauren laughs at her.

“Nice one,” her girlfriend sarcastically congratulates her, “I’m surprised you’re not a professional.”

Camila sticks her tongue out mockingly, as she picks up the ball and throws it back to Lauren. “Oh, shut up. Throw it again.”

“Okay,” Lauren replies, throwing the ball again, and this time, Camila manages a hit, and Lauren breaks out into a sprint, grabbing it out of the air before Camila has even reached the second base. “Wow, what happened to ‘ _I’m going to beat you_ ’, huh?”

“Shut  _up_ , I just said that to make you play, because I knew you wanted to,” Camila sighs, getting ready to hit again. “Throw it.”

“You sure you don’t want to just  _quit_?” Lauren smirks at her. “Honestly, my grandmother played better than you.”

Camila laughs at the words. “Wow, really, trash-talk?”

Lauren just grins, and pretends to throw the ball, cackling when Camila swings the bat so hard she ends up losing balance and falling on her ass. “You know, I don’t think we’re going to need three rounds. We should just declare me the winner.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll come over there and push you over,” Camila threatens, even though she wouldn’t  _actually_. “Seriously. You deserve a good kick in the shin for being so cocky.”

“Try me, Cabello,” Lauren curls her hand into a fist and punches the air. “I could  _easily_  take you.”

“You know, I don’t think you want to piss off the girl who has a  _baseball bat_  in her hand,” Camila comments easily, “now  _throw the damn ball._ ”

Lauren laughs, and throws the ball, and Camila hits it again, this time much harder than the first. She makes a break for it as she sees Lauren sprint after the ball, and she practically dives to get past the last inflatable animal, and she’s on the floor when Lauren holds up the ball.

When the older Latina sees her past the last of their ‘bases’ she pouts. “Oh, what? I totally thought I had that.”

Camila sends her a mocking smile. “Suck on  _that_. Anyway, my turn to throw.”

Lauren takes the bat from her, and they swap places. “You’d better throw it properly, or it’s obviously an unfair game.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “It’s  _already_  an unfair game. You have like, actual experience.”

Lauren grins. “Let’s not forget  _talent_.”

Camila laughs, and throws the ball, but the smile falls from her face when Lauren hits it and it soars far over her head, over the fucking  _roof_  of her house. “Are you  _kidding_  me?”

Already knowing that Lauren will have a point by the time she gets back, Camila doesn’t bother running as she pushes open the back gate, walking around into the front yard. She finds the ball on the lawn, and walks back around, trying hard  _not_  to look impressed.

“Look at that, we’re at a tie already,” Lauren grins, “come on, throw it again.”

Naturally, Lauren gets around the bases before Camila can get the ball on her last two tries, which puts her two points ahead. Camila takes the bat again, glaring at her smirking girlfriend, and she’s starting to think that this  _wasn’t_  the best idea, because Lauren’s ego really didn’t need inflating any more.

She gets ready to hit, and when the ball comes at her, she swings the bat, but somehow steps forward, and ends up hit in the face with a tennis ball. She drops the bat and instinctively reaches her hands up to cup her face. “ _Jesus_ , that hurt.”

Before she can think about anything else, Lauren’s hand is around her waist, and she guides her over to the step on the back porch, repeating, “fuck, Camz, I’m so sorry, I guess I didn’t aim properly-”

“Not your fault,” Camila gets out, pulling her hand away from her face, and  _thank fuck_ , there’s no blood. “I- I like,  _walked_  into it.”

Lauren cups her jaw and makes Camila look at her. She examines her, before gingerly touching Camila’s nose. “Does this hurt?”

“No,” Camila shakes her head, because it’s more her cheek that hurts than anything else, “I hope there isn’t a bruise.”

Lauren looks incredibly guilty, and while Camila found the cocky, confident Lauren really hot – albeit slightly annoying – she really adores her cute, concerned girlfriend. “I’m sorry.  _God_ , does this make me abusive? I’ve dropped scalding liquid on you,  _hit_  you with a fucking  _door_ , and now I’ve almost broken your nose with a tennis ball.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Camila assures her, tenderly poking herself in the cheek. It’s not  _that_  painful, though it  _does_  feel a little bruised. “I swear, I literally  _walked_  into it.”

“Yeah, but I feel bad, because I was aiming higher so you’d miss,” Lauren admits, sending her a sheepish smile, “I’m sorry, Camz.”

Camila shuffles a little closer to her and kisses her cheek. “I guess I can forgive you for your dirty play, but the tennis ball to the face  _wasn’t_  your fault.”

Still looking like she feels a little guilty, Lauren nods. “Okay.”

“Hey, don’t look all sad and guilty,” Camila says, sending Lauren a smile. “For real, I’m okay. And for the record, you’re still pretty amazing at your sports. Even if you’ve taken a few years off.”

Lauren blushes, resting her head on Camila’s shoulder. “I love you so much.”

“Yeah, I am pretty awesome, huh?” Camila grins, forgetting about the pain in her cheek and the dull pang of sadness she feels any time she thinks about her dad. “I love you too, Lo.”

Lauren sends her a small smile, and opens her mouth to reply, but the back door swings open and a frantic looking Sinu blurts out, “your papi is awake. I’m going up there now-”

Camila stands up as fast as she can. “I’m coming with you.”

“I need you to look after Sofia,” Sinu says, and Camila opens her mouth to object, “please don’t argue with me on this, mija.”

“I’ll look after Sofi,” Lauren quickly volunteers, letting Camila help her up. “Seriously, it’s no problem, I’m really good with kids.”

Camila nods, insistent. “Yeah, Lauren can look after her. I just- I need to know he’s okay, and I have to see that for myself.”

After a few moments of thought, Sinu nods reluctantly. “Alright. We’ll be back in around an hour.”

Lauren nods, and Camila pulls her in for a hug and a quick kiss, hoping to convey how grateful she is to her, before running through the house, blurting out a quick goodbye to her sister, and out of the front door with her mother.

She dives into the car, hoping that Lauren will be okay with her sister, and buckles herself in, so fucking grateful to have the best girlfriend on the planet. The drive to the hospital doesn’t take long, and Camila’s heart is pounding as she follows her mother through the hospital, up to her father’s ward.

She expects the worst, but when she sees him, sat up in his hospital bed, sipping on a glass of water, the relief floods through her, and she has to stop herself from throwing herself on him in a hug. Instead, she settles for sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair by his bed, and taking his free hand. “Oh my god, papi. I’m so glad you’re awake.”

He sends her a smile, and she thanks every powerful force she can think of that he actually looks  _okay_. Quickly, his smile turns to a look of concern when he notices the redness on her cheek. “Are you hurt, mija?”

Camila blinks like the words are in another language. “Um, what?  _You’re_  the one in the hospital bed.”

“You have a red mark on your cheek,” Alejandro points out, “did you run into something again?”

“Something like that,” Camila brushes it off, “are you feeling okay? When do you think you’ll be coming home? I’m staying in Miami until-”

At her words, her father sends her a look, and she knows she’s in trouble. “Karla Camila Cabello Estrabao, you are  _not_  skipping school for me, are you?”

Turning red, Camila splutters out an apology as her father rants about how they didn’t come to this country and sacrifice everything for her to bunk off school, but Sinu quickly shuts him up, “Ale, I called her. I know she would want to be here, and stop stressing. She’ll go back to school as soon as-”

“As soon as the next flight,” Alejandro sternly replies, “I’m  _fine_ , mija. You should be at school.”

Finally, Camila laughs, truly and genuinely relieved. “You’re fine. Oh my god, you really  _are_  fine.”

She slumps back in the chair, finally feeling  _okay_ , as the nurse explains to them that they’re keeping him in for observation, but he’ll need to take it easy and make some  _lifestyle_   _changes_  as well as stay on specific medications, and some other medical mumbo jumbo that Camila can’t really understand.

She excuses herself from the room and pulls her phone from her pocket, calling Lauren. She picks up on the first ring.

 _“Hi, Camz_ ,” Lauren greets her,  _“what’s the sitch?”_

“Okay, Kim Possible,” Camila teases her, before she realises, “hey, you actually kind of look like Shego. I had a crush on her as a kid, too. No wonder I like you. Anyway, thankfully, he’s fine. He doesn’t need any surgeries but they’re keeping him in the hospital for a few days for observation, and he’ll be on medication, but… yeah. He’s okay.”

 _“That’s good,”_ Lauren answers, and Camila can practically  _hear_  the smile in her voice, “ _I’m so happy for you and your family, Camz. We good to head back to school?”_

“Yeah,” Camila replies, “I’m going to take a look at flights, because dad literally looked like he was going to punch me when he realised I’d left school.”

“ _Okay,”_ Lauren responds, before she laughs and says, “ _oh, by the way, I forced your sister to watch High School Musical 2. I’m definitely enjoying it more than she is.”_

Camila laughs. “Of course you’re making her watch that.”

 _“I couldn’t help myself. I found the extended edition in that cupboard where all your DVDs are. She told me where it was. She also told me the exact location of all your family photos.”_ Lauren mischievously replies, “ _So you might want to hurry up and get back here before I look at them.”_

“Don’t you  _dare_ , Lauren whatever your middle name is Jauregui,” Camila curses at her, finding it a little hard to believe that she doesn’t know Lauren’s middle name, “actually, what  _is_  your middle name?”

 _“Danger,”_ Lauren teases her, “ _just kidding, it’s Michelle. But I’m only telling you that out of obligation, since I know all of your names. You know, one time Lucy_ Lauren Michelle’ _d me and I actually jumped ten feet in the air. I only ever get called it when I’m in trouble.”_

“In trouble for what?” Camila snorts. “I was under the impression that you’re basically God in human form.”

 _“Alright, cut it out with the sarcasm,”_ Lauren answers,  _“I’ll see you when you get back?”_

“Yeah, see you,” Camila answers, and before Lauren can hang up, adds, “and Lo? Thank you for coming back with me. I don’t think I could’ve held it together without you.”

“ _No worries, Camz,”_ Lauren assures her,  _“bye.”_

“Bye,” Camila replies, hanging up the call and smiling to herself, feeling lighter than she has in days.

-

**31/03/17**

Lauren knocks on the front door and waits for it to open. Yes, she knows that she saw Camila literally two days ago when they’d gotten back up to college, and shared a cab to their respective houses. Yes, she knows that maybe she’s being weird and clingy by showing up unannounced, but she doesn’t care, because she’s prepared a nice picnic to share with her girlfriend, and she hopes she enjoys it.

When the door swings open, and it’s not Camila behind it, Lauren’s face sinks into a frown. Quickly, she plasters a smile back on and addresses Dinah, smoothing out the summer dress she’d picked out. “Um, hi. Is Camila here?”

Dinah’s gaze flicks down, and Lauren doesn’t really care that she’s looking at her prosthetic; she’s used to questioning looks when she goes out in dresses or shorts. But instead of bluntly questioning her like she expects from Dinah, she just says, “what’s with the basket?”

“Oh,” Lauren blinks in surprise when she realises what she was really looking at as Dinah lets her in the house, “picnic. I made sandwiches and stuff. Thought she’d want to go out.”

“Okay then,” Dinah shrugs, before shouting up the stairs at the top of her lungs. “Walz! Your girlfriend is here!”

After a few moments of silence, Camila comes thundering down the stairs, jumping the last three and wobbling on landing, but not actually falling. She sends Lauren a small smile. “Hi. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I texted before I set off,” Lauren explains, but realises it’s only a short walk, so Camila hadn’t had much chance to respond. “I was wondering if-”

“If I wanted to go for a picnic?” Camila seems to gather from the basket. “Yeah, I’m down, just let me get dressed. I don’t think a cow onesie is appropriate picnic attire and you look absolutely stunning in that dress.”

Dinah cringes. “Chancho, stop flirting in front of me, you’re only twelve.”

Camila lets out an indignant scoff. “I’m older than you!”

“Not in the dating world, kid,” Dinah pets her on the top of her head, and Camila punches her in the arm. “But I think you’ve got a keeper if she’s showing up with a fully made picnic.”

Lauren blushes at the words, because she kind of loves getting people’s approval. Lucy calls her a suck-up, but Lauren ignores her, even though it’s a  _little_  true. “Well, I mean, I have to get my girl’s best friend to like me. Otherwise the relationship won’t last.”

“See, she’s smart, too,” Dinah grins, and Lauren smiles back, Camila looking between them anxiously. “You know, I think you and I will get along well, Lauser.”

Lauren frowns. “ _Lauser_?”

“Lauren and loser,” Dinah answers easily, “maybe you’ll get a nickname upgrade when I’ve decided you’re good enough for my little Walz over here.”

“Okay, shut up, leave her alone,” Camila shoves Dinah away, ushering her back into the front room. “Bye, Dinah!”

Dinah doesn’t get a chance to argue before Camila slams the lounge door behind her, and Lauren looks back at her girlfriend, an eyebrow quirked up in amusement. “Are you guys always like that?”

“Normally it’s  _me_  intimidating the  _boyfriend_ , but whatever. She likes you.” Camila specifies, shrugging carelessly. “Anyway, where do you want to go for our picnic?”

“We could always just go into the back yard,” Lauren shrugs, “I really don’t mind. I just want to spend time with you. And, you know, get all of this food eaten.”

“We can always pawn it off on the girls if we get too full,” Camila suggests, taking the basket from Lauren and almost falling over from the weight. “What the fuck do you have in here,  _bricks?_ ”

Lauren laughs, and takes the basket back with ease. “It’s not my fault you’re a weakling.”

“I know, but I should be the one to carry the heavy stuff.” Camila pouts, insistent, and even though Lauren knows she doesn’t mean anything by it, she can’t help but be a little annoyed. “It’s just right, you know, because-”

Ordinarily, Lauren would’ve snapped at her, but she sees the genuine look in Camila’s eyes and relaxes, shaking her head. “It’s  _fine_ , Camz. I lost a leg, not an arm.”

Camila blinks in confusion, frowning. “No, I don’t mean it like that. You know, except when I’m in front of your parents and trying to impress them, because your mom would probably tell me that letting you carry heavy stuff would result in your death or whatever. I mean because I’m the  _top_ , I should be chivalrous and carry things.”

At the words, Lauren laughs. She should’ve known that Camila hadn’t meant it like that; Camila isn’t everyone else. She can’t remember a time when Camila has ever coddled her, and she loves her for it.

“Hey, don’t laugh!” Camila pouts. “You know for a  _fact_  that I’m a top.”

“I know, I know, but it’s still funny,” Lauren snorts, following Camila through the kitchen. She dumps the picnic basket on the table as the younger Latina unlocks the back door to their tiny yard. “Because you’re  _you_.”

“Damn right I’m me,” Camila smirks at her, pushing her up against the counter and pressing a kiss to Lauren’s jawline. The older Latina sucks in a breath as Camila’s hands touch her waist, pulling her closer. “And you love me. Don’t you, babygirl?”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Lauren laughs, ignoring the way her heart is beating out of her chest. “You’re a  _top_. I won’t mock you again.”

Camila smiles, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Good girl. Anyway, I’ll go grab us a blanket to sit on. Shall I get changed or am I good in the cow onesie?”

“You- you’re good in the cow onesie,” Lauren answers, the praise leaving her a little dazed. “And- um, okay.”

Camila flashes her a knowing grin as she leaves the room, and Lauren lets out a sigh as the tension leaves her body. She doesn’t know how Camila has such an effect on her, but she can’t say she doesn’t like it.

Normani walks into the kitchen and flashes her a smile, clearly noticing how flustered she is, but not commenting on it. “Oh, hey, Lo. Mila didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“I didn’t exactly tell her,” Lauren clears her throat and lets out an awkward laugh. “I came over for an impromptu picnic. In your back yard.”

“Sounds romantic,” Normani laughs, “I’m glad things are going well for you guys. At least I’m guessing so, since she hasn’t come to my room in a Lauren related crisis since like, October.”

Lauren laughs. “She did that?”

“Well, when she found out that she had a mutual friend with a hot girl she liked, naturally she wanted to know anything about you.” Normani rolls her eyes. “And she might’ve been the reason I invited you out clubbing. She wanted to get to know you.”

Lauren’s stomach flutters. “She’s so cute.”

“You’d better be talking about me,” Camila warns as she walks into the room, hauling a big fluffy yellow blanket with her. “I’m the only cute girl you’re supposed to talk about, Lauren Michelle.”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “I never should’ve told you my middle name.”

“You know mine,” Camila shrugs, kicking open the back door. “Are you coming or what?”

“Sure, sure,” Lauren answers, picking up the picnic basket again and sending Normani a smile. “Later, Mani.”

Normani says goodbye to them as Lauren walks out of the door, and she waits for Camila to spread the blanket out on the grass before dropping the picnic basket on top of it. She sits down on the ground, leaning back on her elbows and stretching, and Camila just laughs at her.

“I really want to kick one of your elbows so you fall,” Camila laughs at the mental image, sitting down next to Lauren and grabbing her so she’s sat between her legs, head rested on her chest. “There we go. Now pass me some food.”

Lauren rolls her eyes and reaches forward, grabbing one of the sandwiches she’d made and holding it out to Camila. “There you go, little miss  _demanding_.”

“Oh, you love me,” Camila answers, and her tone stops being teasing as she wraps an arm around Lauren’s waist protectively and gives her a gentle squeeze. “And I really love you. God, I love you. So fucking much.”

Lauren’s stomach flutters at the words as she gets her own sandwich out of the basket and bites into it. “That’s all factual information. Are you okay?”

“More than okay. My dad is going to be okay, I have a girlfriend who loves me,  _and_  I’m not flunking out of college.  _And_ I’ll get to live with said girlfriend next year.”

“About that,” Lauren says, “I was looking around and I think I’ve found an apartment. Only one bedroom, but… that’s what we agreed on. We’ll go for a look around at some point, but I think it’s a good place.”

“Okay,” Camila smiles, “sounds good, babe. I trust your judgement.”

“So, um, you mentioned you work over summers?” Lauren asks, and she doesn’t really know  _why_  she’s asking. She works over summer too, and she guesses she’s just nervous that their schedules won’t line up. “What do you do?”

“Just, you know, cashier at Walmart,” Camila shrugs, “nothing particularly special. You?”

“I work at a pizza place,” Lauren answers, “not deliveries, because there are  _far_  too many horror stories about creepy people that put me off. In the kitchen. Just a local, Miami-based place.”

Camila’s eyes widen in realisation. “That’s why you have that pizza recipe memorised.”

Lauren laughs. “Yep. I’ve made far too much dough in my lifetime that I doubt I’ll ever forget  _how_.”

“I knew you were too good at like, flipping it around and stuff.” Camila says, chuckling to herself, “damn, maybe I  _did_  bag myself the next Gordon Ramsay. But like, the really hot female version.”

“I’ll take that compliment,” Lauren answers easily. “I wonder if we ever ran into each other. You know, before we met. If we ever happened to be in the same place in Miami. Funny, stuff like that. You could meet someone who’s going to mean the world to you, and not know it until years later.”

Camila laughs. “That’s a little too deep for me. But maybe you’re right. Maybe we did run into each other. Though, I doubt I’d ever forget your face.”

Lauren balks. “Cheesy, much?”

“You started it,” Camila shoots back, grabbing another sandwich and eating it just as fast as the others, while Lauren is still working on her first one. “I mean, I definitely never went to any softball games. Though, thinking about it, I’d really love to have known you for longer, just so I could’ve been at one of your games, supporting you and cheering you on.”

Lauren shrugs. “We have each other now. You can cheer me on when I launch my presidential campaign.”

Camila grins. “Of course. I can’t wait to be First Lady Jauregui.”

Lauren blinks in surprise at the words. She knows it’s probably just a joke, but the thought of that, of Camila being Karla Camila  _Jauregui…_  it does something to her. You- um, you’d want that?”

Camila sends her a soft smile, nodding. “Yeah. You and me, in the White House? Talk about a power couple.”

“No, um, I mean,” Lauren blushes, not meeting her girlfriend’s gaze as she murmurs, “you’d want to be… Mrs Jauregui?”

Camila hums happily. “I’d be honoured to be Mrs Jauregui. One day.”

“Yeah,” Lauren bites down on her bottom lip to hide her smile. “One day.”

Camila leans forward and digs into the basket, pulling out the pack of strawberries Lauren had bought. She flips open the lid and eats one, leaving the green part at the top in the lid of the container. Lauren watches her, completely enamoured by her beauty, by the fact that she  _wants to be Mrs Jauregui_ , and she’s not thinking straight when she leans in and kisses her, tasting the strawberry on her lips, hand cupping her girl’s jawline.

When they pull apart, Camila sends her a confused smile. “What was that for?”

“I’m just…” Lauren’s stomach flips as she looks into the chocolate brown eyes of the woman she loves. “I’m so fucking glad I met you.”

Camila smiles, and pulls her in for another kiss. “Me too, babygirl. Me too.”

-

**17/04/17**

“I find Easter quite… repulsive.” Lauren comments, and Camila rolls her eyes at the Negative Nancy as she rips open her second Easter egg. “I mean, it’s supposed to be a proper religious holiday, but now it’s just… Chocolate Day. I don’t particularly care about religion, but if I  _did_ , I think I’d be pretty offended.”

“Oh, shut up, you weird chocolate hater. Besides, it’s not even Easter, it’s Easter leftovers day,” Camila rolls her eyes, “and you had a bite of my last Easter egg.”

“A tiny little bit, and it was gross,” Lauren announces, rubbing her tummy and pouting, “and I’ve had a stomach ache for the last ten minutes.”

Camila pouts. “Sorry, baby.”

“I seriously don’t get how you could eat that much chocolate,” Lauren crinkles her nose in disgust. “It’s  _not_  nice.”

“ _You’re_  not nice,” Camila childishly retorts, before she realises what she’s said and announces, “actually, you’re very nice, that was totally uncalled for.”

“Aw, Camz,” Lauren smiles at her, cringing again and rubbing her stomach. “That chocolate seriously fucked me up. Sure you’re not trying to poison me and steal all my gold?”

“You have gold?” Camila looks up interestedly. “Maybe I  _will_  poison you, because I’m kind of broke right now.”

Lauren angles a lazy kick at her, and Camila kicks her back. “Hey! That’s not fair, I’ve only got one real shin. Can’t have that one out of action too.”

“Oh, pulling the amputee card, are we?” Camila mock pouts. “Too bad. You’re a bitch so you’re not getting any sympathy from me. Kick me and I’ll kick back.”

Lauren pouts at her, and when she puts on the infamous puppy dog eyes, Camila knows she’s going to cave. “Even if I ask you really nicely? Please don’t kick me, nugget.”

“The puppy dog eyes  _and_  the baby voice?” Camila exclaims, grabbing a pillow from the couch and launching it in Lauren’s general direction, before she rams more chocolate into her mouth. “That’s just foul play and manipulation.”

“Doesn’t matter if it works,” Lauren flashes her a small smile, “and don’t throw pillows at me, bitch.”

As Lauren launches the pillow back in her direction, Camila laughs. “What, do you want me to throw bricks at you instead?”

Lauren laughs. “No, but snacks are fine.”

“Hold up, I just need to google something,” Camila picks up her phone and pretends to type, “ _could you count rocks as snacks…_ ”

Lauren rolls her eyes. “That wasn’t even funny.  _How to make rock cakes_  would’ve been better.”

Camila just sticks her tongue out at Lauren, before eating more chocolate. “Shut up, loser.”

Lauren snorts, and goes to sit up, before winces in pain and the younger Latina jumps up in concern. Before she can ask, Lauren says, “I’m fine.”

Camila frowns, the fear rising in her chest. “You were hurt. Tell me what’s wrong and tell me right now.”

“It’s nothing,” Lauren assures her, rubbing her stomach, “I’m like, on my period so I already had cramps, and now I just feel really gross after that chocolate and my stomach hurts.”

Camila looks at her, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “Are you telling me the truth?”

“Yeah,” Lauren says, sending her a reassuring smile, “I promise. Don’t go getting all worried, alright?”

Camila takes her hand and gives it a small squeeze, trying to push her mind away from the worst case scenario. “Okay.”

“Relax, alright?” Lauren flashes her a smile. “It’s just cramps. I’ll whack a hot water bottle on my stomach when I get home and it’ll be all better.”

“Wait there,” Camila stands up and stretches, “I have one you can use. Give me a minute, okay?”

Lauren smiles at her. “Okay.”

She heads into the kitchen and busies herself with boiling water to put in the hot water bottle, digging it out of one of the cabinets. Once that’s done, she walks back into the lounge and sits down next to Lauren, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “It’ll be a minute, baby.”

Lauren rubs her stomach and nods. “Okay. I appreciate it.”

“I like taking care of you,” Camila shrugs, “I just want you to be happy, baby.”

“I am,” Lauren mumbles, “shouldn’t have had that chocolate, though. Makes my tummy hurt.”

Camila squeezes her hand and stands up, going to make the hot water bottle now the water is boiled. She puts the cap on it and smooths out the fluffy blue cover, before carrying it through to her girlfriend. Lauren smiles appreciatively and takes it, putting it on her stomach and getting herself comfortable on the couch.

“You’re cute,” Camila sits down next to her and presses a soft kiss to her cheek. “You know what we could do to cheer you up?”

Lauren hums. “What?”

“Watch your  _X Factor_  audition,” Camila grins, easily connecting YouTube to the TV and holding her phone out to Lauren. “Come on. Please?”

Lauren hums. “I don’t know if we’re on that level yet.”

“Oh my god, what else do we need to do!?” Camila exclaims, sending Lauren her best pout and hoping she caves. “We’ve slept together, we’ve said  _I love you_ , we’ve agreed that I’m going to be First Lady Jauregui. What else?! There  _aren’t_  any other levels.”

Lauren laughs, wincing a little at a pain in her stomach. “Alright. Fine.  _Fine_. I guess it’s time.”

“It was televised, right?” Camila asks, and as Lauren types in  _The X Factor USA 2012_ , she grins. “I fucking  _knew_  it! I should’ve just gone looking for it.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t, honestly,” Lauren says, scrolling through the videos. “I was waiting for you to just go ahead and look it up. Either that or you’d see it accidentally in one of those bad audition compilations.”

Camila frowns. “I already know I’d never see it in there, because you have a great voice, so don’t even  _joke_  about that. Anyway, you didn’t want me to see it, so… I’m not going to go behind your back like that.”

“Camz,” Lauren smiles, shuffling back to press a kiss to her cheek, “I love you. You’re so considerate. Anyway, uh, if I press play on here, will it just come up on the TV?”

“Mhm,” Camila nods, pulling Lauren close to her and snuggling her face into her neck. “How’s your tummy?”

“I mean… period cramps, but… could be worse,” Lauren shrugs, looking down at Camila’s phone and pressing the play button on the video. Not even a millisecond passes before she pauses it again. “Okay, so, just to preface this, the audition itself is like, halfway through the video. This first part is like, a weird get to know me thing, and bear in mind I was  _sixteen_. So I’m like, not even the same human anymore.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re adorable now and you were probably adorable then,” Camila laughs, reaching around Lauren and pressing play on the video. Lauren cringes at the screen and looks away, and Camila just smiles, and lets out a loud  _aw_  as Lauren comes onto the screen, surrounded by her family and talking to the woman at some kind of check in desk. “Wow, not even ten seconds in and you’re already playing with your hair.”

“It’s a nervous reflex,  _god_ ,” Lauren rolls her eyes, finally looking at her younger self on the screen. “Damn. So small and innocent.”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve ever been innocent,” Camila laughs, as the younger Lauren on the screen starts to talk, “Okay, shush, you’re talking.”

“ _You’re_  the one who’s talking-” Lauren starts, and Camila cuts her off with a shush, “fine, bitch.”

The Lauren on the screen smiles brightly, and Camila smiles with her.  _“Hi, my name’s Lauren Jauregui, I’m from Miami, Florida, I’m sixteen, and I’m a high school student.”_

“Wow, look at that, you’re a college student now,” Camila announces, giving Lauren an encouraging punch on the arm, “you levelled up!”

Lauren rolls her eyes as the younger her on the screen introduces her family, and talks about how important they are to her. Initially, while she’d opened her mouth to retort to Camila’s comment, she finds herself agreeing. “Okay, that’s all still true. Wow, any other sixteen year old would be like  _fuck family! I’m going out with my friends!_ I really  _am_  the golden child, huh? My parents hit the damn jackpot.”

Camila laughs, tilting her head to the side as she looks at Lauren on the TV. “You need a haircut.”

“Shut up,” Lauren snorts, “I liked it that long. I don’t think it’ll get to that point again because it’s been the same length for like a year now.”

“Whatever, as long as you can run your hands through it every five seconds, you’re probably content,” Camila laughs when Lauren grumbles in reluctant agreement. “So, was this before school? Like, summer time?”

“Yes,” Lauren answers, “I actually was going to audition the year before, but it would’ve clashed with the last week of school, and my mom wouldn’t let me miss it. So I waited a year. This was just after my birthday, at the very start of July.”

Camila frowns. “You’ve never told me your birthday.”

“You didn’t tell me yours,” Lauren retorts, but smiles slightly and adds, “June 27th.”

“Remind me to get you a big bottle of champagne for your twenty first,” Camila smiles, looking back at the screen just as Lauren walks onto the stage. The teasing grin morphs into more of a heartfelt smile, and she turns back to the Lauren she’s snuggling with,  _her_  Lauren, the love of her life, and mumbles, “you were so small.”

“I’m still pretty short,” Lauren chuckles, “it’s funny, actually. How I’m the eldest out of my siblings but I’m the shortest.”

“I don’t mean like that,” Camila shakes her head, pausing the video, “you were just so little, and thinking about how- how like, two months later you found out you were sick, it makes me so sad. Because I don’t like the idea of you having all of this happiness about getting through on this show and starting your  _life_ , and then having it all taken away. You were happy and then it all fell apart and you didn’t deserve it.”

Lauren watches her carefully, turning over the words in her head. “Say it didn’t happen. Imagine I got through. Imagine I’d won it, I got a record deal or whatever, and I  _didn’t_  go to college. I wouldn’t have met you. Sure, at the time I was angry about it, more about the being sick part than having to drop out of the show, but looking back, I much prefer the path life has taken me on than the hypothetical. Looking at the music industry… honestly, I would’ve been miserable. It would’ve eaten me alive. While I was upset about it at the time, I really don’t care anymore, and if I could go back, I never would’ve auditioned. I have happiness now. Real happiness, because this is where I’m supposed to be. And I have you. I like to think of the whole situation as… losing on a scratchcard and then winning the damn lottery.”

Camila’s fingers trace over the pale skin of Lauren’s bare upper arm. “Okay. Because that’s all I want. Your happiness.”

“And I have that,” Lauren smiles, “so let’s not dwell on maybes and laugh at how jumpy and nervous I was.”

Camila presses play on the video and shrugs as Lauren talks to the judges. “You don’t look nervous.”

“Babe, my talking voice is like, five octaves higher than usual, and I keep playing with my hair,” Lauren argues, “I honestly thought I was going to get so nervous that I’d drop the microphone. I was freaking out because when I’d practised the song the night before, I cracked on the high note, and it felt like a premonition.”

Camila opens her mouth to reply, but Lauren starts singing, and she knows she’s heard her sing before, but not  _really_. She’s heard her sing along to the radio, or jokingly sing a few lines of a  _High School Musical_  song when she feels it’s appropriate to make a reference. This is different. This is legitimate. She  _loves_  it.

When Lauren hits the high note perfectly, Camila practically melts. “God, you need to sing to me more often. Oh, I know! You can be the vocals on my music technology track. You know, the one I have to produce? I was going to sing it myself, but you’re allowed to bring someone else in if you want, so… you could. If you’re down.”

Lauren hums. “Is it going to be  _Bop to the Top_?”

Camila chuckles. “If I say no, will you decline my request?”

“Mhm-  _ouch_ ,” Lauren winces, rubbing a spot on her tummy. “Um, do you have any ibuprofen or something?”

Camila looks at her, concerned. “Are you sure it’s just period cramps?”

Lauren’s expression darkens, but she answers easily with, “what else would it be? I’m on my period and my stomach hurts. Two plus two equals four.”

Camila isn’t sure, but accepts the answer and goes into the bathroom, grabbing the ibuprofen out of the medicine cabinet. She takes it to Lauren with a glass of water, and the older girl thanks her, repositioning the hot water bottle and closing her eyes.

“Do you want to go to bed, maybe?” Camila offers, “We could just… hang out upstairs. Watch a movie or something so you can take it easy?”

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, but nods, and sits up, wincing in pain. “Fuck. Okay. Let’s just… go upstairs.”

Camila wants to help Lauren up, but she knows she’s got her whole  _independent woman_  thing going on, so she waits for her girl to get up by herself. That’s when Lauren lets out a cry in pain and falls back onto the couch, curling up and holding her stomach.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Lauren cries out, hands clamped over her stomach, “fuck, Camz, I- I don’t…”

“What do I do?” Camila asks quickly, not knowing if she should call someone or just put Lauren to bed, and she hates that she’s practically useless, but when Lauren lets out another whimper of pain, like she’s clearly trying to keep it together because she knows Camila is freaking out, the younger Latina just mumbles, “should I- um, help you up?”

“Fuck, Camz, I-” Lauren cuts herself off with a cry of pain, and she doesn’t try to stay calm when she blurts out, “oh, god, call an ambulance.”

Camila nods, and sprints to the phone, dialling 911 for the first and last time in her life.

-

When Lucy gets a call during class, and it actually  _rings_ , she knows there’s only two people it could be. One, Vero, calling her to update her on some chicken wings she just ate or something equally as mundane, because she has a habit of doing that, and forgetting that she’s on bypass, so Lucy’s phone will ring out loud in a lecture. Or two, Lauren, which would be a butt dial, because Lauren never calls anybody, only texts.

So, when she pulls her phone out of her bag and goes to decline the call, she pauses, because Lauren is calling her. She scrambles to throw all of her stuff in her bag, and ignoring the way her classmates look at her, she runs out of the back exit and picks up the phone.

“Lo?” She asks. “Is this a butt dial, because I just left class and-”

“Not Lauren and it’s not a butt dial,” A familiar voice hurriedly blurts out, “I- I need you to come to the hospital, Lauren’s here and- oh, it’s Camila, by the way, um, we just got here in the ambulance and they’ve taken her away for something and just- please come here?”

At the words, Lucy’s stomach drops and she feels like someone has just dropped ice water all over her body. The last time she’d heard the words  _Lauren is in the hospital_ , her best friend had almost died. The last time she’d heard those words, Lucy had hoped and prayed she’d never hear them again.

Apparently, her prayers aren’t enough.

“I’m on my way,” Lucy answers abruptly, holding in her tears as she walks slowly to where Vero had left her car. “Be there soon.”

She hangs up the phone and pulls her spare keys from her pocket, knowing she can’t cry because she needs to drive, and get to the hospital, and be there to hear any news, good or bad. She needs to be there for Lauren.

She starts the car, feeling completely numb and empty, the only thing running through her mind being the pain she felt the first time she’d heard the news.

 _“She’s still out,” the doctor explains, and Lucy keeps her mouth shut, feeling completely out of place around Lauren’ family. If she’s honest, she doesn’t even know why she’s here, even if she_ is _Lauren’s best friend. She’d begged her mother to drive her here after Lauren had collapsed on the pitch, and she still feels sick with worry._

_Clara stands up, and Lucy can’t imagine how she must feel. “Is she okay? What was wrong?”_

_The doctor looks pained, like he’s about to tell her Lauren isn’t going to make it, but she knows that can’t be the case. Lauren is sixteen. She’s got her whole life ahead of her. In fact, she might even be dropping out of school soon, if she gets far enough on The X Factor._

_“I’m sorry,” The doctor prefaces, and Lucy’s stomach drops, “we found a tumour in your daughter’s left ankle, and it’s likely that it’s osteosarcoma. Nurses are running a few tests but we’re fairly certain.”_

_“A- a tumour?” Mike asks, and he looks positively heartbroken. “But she’s… it’s not… right?”_

_He skips over the word, but everyone seems to know what he means. Chris, Lauren’s younger brother, frowns up at his dad. “What does he mean? What’s wrong with her?”_

_When nobody wants to reply and be the one to break the news, Lucy stammers out, “Cancer. It’s cancer, isn’t it?”_

_The doctor looks forlorn. “I’m afraid so. We’ll have a talk through treatment options when your daughter wakes up. I know it’s the worst thing to say, but try not to worry. Osteosarcoma has an eighty percent survival rate.”_

_Lucy feels tears stinging at her eyes. Twenty percent is still a big amount. What if Lauren ends up in that twenty percent?_

_But she’s not_ , Lucy quickly reminds herself,  _she survived, she got through it, and she’ll get through whatever this is._  She pushes any negative thoughts down, worried that it’ll make the worst case scenario come true, but all she can think is  _cancer, cancer, cancer_ , and the thought makes her sick.

Admittedly, she rushes to the hospital, quickly finding a parking space and sprinting into the emergency room. She scans the room, and sees a teary eyed Camila sat by herself, obviously worried, with Nala snuggled in her arms.

Trying to joke, she sits down next to her, mumbling, “Lauren won’t be happy you stole her.”

Camila just hums. “Thank you for coming. I- um, I don’t know any of her family’s numbers, and, I mean… you’re family to her, so…”

Lucy winces, trying to stay upbeat, but it’s getting harder and harder as she takes in her surroundings, because it’s all too familiar. “We probably shouldn’t call them until we know more. You know how her mom is.”

“Yeah,” Camila mumbles, fingers running across Nala’s fur. “It was so scary, Lucy. One minute, she was okay, just complaining about period cramps, and the next she’s crying and telling me to call an ambulance and then when I called them she puked and- and then they came and it was all so fast and blurry and  _scary_.”

It’s all too similar, and Lucy tries not to think about it. The sudden pain, the admittance to the ER, the diagnosis. It was the worst thing that Lauren ever had to go through, and it hurt Lucy to see her like that. So scared, so angry, so  _frail_. One hug and she always felt like Lauren would break.

_“How are you feeling, babe?”_

_Lucy knows the answer before she asks the question. She’d woken up to a text from Lauren’s father, telling her that Lauren had been admitted to the ER overnight, that they’d almost lost her, that they were worried it was stage four, and she’d rushed to the hospital the second she could._

_Lauren looks up at her, so tiny and frail, dark circles under her eyes, and mumbles, “Like I’m dying.”_

_Lucy’s heart breaks, and she quickly takes Lauren’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. Not just to comfort Lauren, but to comfort herself, and remind her that her best friend, that her_ crush _is still there. “Don’t be dumb. You’re going to be fine, loser.”_

_She doesn’t entirely believe it, but she says it anyway, because she knows Lauren appreciates it when she acts like nothing is wrong. Everyone is so touchy around her, never knowing what to say, and she knows that Lauren hates it._

_“Can you- um,” Lauren bites down on her bottom lip, hand reflexively going up to run through her hair, momentarily forgetting how much it’s thinning from the radiotherapy. “Can you write a eulogy? You know, for me?”_

_Lucy’s throat closes over, “Lauren-”_

_“Look, I know you like pretending that everything is fine, and I appreciate that, but... but after last night, I just… I just want to know that everything will be in place,” Lauren mumbles, not meeting her gaze. “I want you to speak at my funeral. You’re my best friend and- and I just… it wouldn’t feel right if you didn’t speak.”_

_“No.” Lucy shakes her head. “I’m not going to speak at your funeral, because you’re not going to die. But what I_ will _do is get you high on your eighteenth birthday after an amazing party. I’ll take you to get your first tattoo. On your twenty first, we’re going to get ridiculously drunk together. And when we’re eighty years old and two crazy cat ladies,_ then _maybe I’ll consider your request.”_

_Lauren opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again, and sighs. “Look, just… promise me you will. If things get worse.”_

_After a few moments of silence, Lucy nods. “I promise.”_

“How long do you think it’ll be?” Camila asks her, clearly wanting her to draw from past experiences. “You know, until they tell us something.”

“I don’t know. It… depends,” Lucy answers, “on what they find. And how fast they find it.”

Camila nods, looking down at Nala. “Are you scared that it’s…?

 _Yes_ , Lucy thinks, but she feigns confidence and shakes her head. “No. Of course not. There’d be signs.”

“Yeah,” Camila mumbles. “You’re right.”

 _Yeah, because there were signs last time, right?_  Lucy pushes that thought aside, but it comes back.  _Some cancers are silent. It could be that she’s developed- no,_  Lucy cuts it off,  _no, you’re not Clara, don’t worry about it, Lauren is fine. Yeah, just like she was fine last time._

_“You’re fine!”_

_Lauren sighs, closing her eyes and leaning against the pillow. “Is it stupid that I’m- I don’t feel fine?”_

_Lucy shakes her head. “Of course it’s not. I mean, you were literally just declared in remission yesterday.”_

_“No, not that,” Lauren sighs, shuffling uncomfortably. “I don’t feel okay in myself. I’ve never really been insecure, but… but I just feel so… so ugly.”_

_Lucy sighs, and while she’d usually pull Lauren close and run her fingers through her best friend’s hair, she can’t, because nothing has grown back yet, and bringing attention to that would make Lauren worse. Instead, she does want she’s wanted to do for years, and presses a soft, innocent kiss to Lauren’s lips. “You could never be ugly, okay?”_

_Lauren blinks in surprise, and Lucy smiles a little when she realises the kiss did its job; it distracted her from whatever negative thoughts she was having. “You kissed me.”_

_“Excellent observation there, Sherlock,” Lucy grins, squeezing Lauren’s hand. “Don’t worry, Lo. I know you don’t feel that way about me, I just… couldn’t help myself.”_

_“No, but… I do,” Lauren mumbles, “feel that way, I mean. I just didn’t think you’d want me. I’m not…”_

_“Don’t finish that sentence, okay?” Lucy announces, kissing her to emphasise the point. “I’ve had feelings for you for years, dumbass.”_

_Lauren frowns. “Wait, really?”_

_“Yes!” Lucy laughs. “I couldn’t live without you, weirdo. You know that.”_

It’s still true. Lauren is her best friend, and she can’t imagine not having her in her life. While the feelings are different now, she’d definitely fall apart if she lost her, and looking over at Camila, she knows she feels the same way.

They’re sat in silence, both in their own heads, when a doctor walks out of the double doors connect to the emergency surgery department and says, “Family of Lauren Jauregui?”

“We’re her sisters,” Lucy easily lies, knowing they won’t tell them anything if they’re not family. Thankfully, the doctor doesn’t ask for ID as they both jump up. “What’s the news, is she okay?”

“Her appendix ruptured,” the doctor tells them, “she’s out of surgery, and she’s still asleep, but she’ll be just fine and can be discharged later today. Most patients find it better to rest at home.”

Camila blinks at the words. “Her appendix ruptured?”

Lucy looks equally as dumbfounded. “It’s not cancer?”

The doctor laughs like he doesn’t realise how  _not_  serious they are. “No, it’s not cancer. Just her appendix.”

Lucy lets out a relieved laugh, and before Camila can register anything, she pulls her in for a hug, murmuring, “she’s okay.”

“You can go through and see her, but like I said before, she’s still asleep,” the doctor explains, and leads them through to the ward they’ve put Lauren on. “She should wake up soon though.”

“You’ve done all the tests, right?” Lucy asks him. “It was definitely just her appendix?”

“Yes,” the doctor answers, and Camila wonders how she’s not annoyed with the questions, after already confirming the answer twice. “Though I don’t see why you’re so worried. At your age, cancer is rare. Young adults only make up around five percent of all diagnoses.”

Camila quickly explains. “Um, Lauren had it before.”

Lucy nods. “Osteosarcoma. It’s why she lost her leg.”

Camila hums in agreement. “Yeah, and her mom really likes informing people on like, recurrence statistics. Even though it’s kind of dumb, I guess it just freaked both of us out.”

“It’s understandable for you to be scared, but everything is fine,” the doctor assures them, pointing them to a bed in a ward where Camila can make out Lauren’s sleeping form. “Your friend is perfectly healthy.”

Lucy thanks her, and Camila opens her mouth to say,  _actually, that’s my future wife,_  but Lucy pulls her over to the hospital bed. Camila takes the chair closest to them, on Lauren’s left, placing Nala on the bed with her, and Lucy breathes out a sigh of relief as she stands over her best friend.

“She looks so healthy,” Lucy mumbles, running a hand through her hair and sending Camila a weak smile. “You don’t know how relieved I am.  _God_ , I’m so glad I don’t have to call her mom.”

Camila laughs. “Yeah, you definitely made the right call in not telling her family until we knew more. I doubt Lauren would want her mom rushing up here for  _appendicitis_.”

“Trust me, she wants to keep that woman as far away from school as she can,” Lucy replies, still staring down at her friend. After a few moments of looking fondly down at Lauren, Lucy lets out a small sigh. “I was so worried about her. Being in here, with her rushed into the ER… it was just how it happened back then. Same scenario… I guess I worried it’d have the same outcome. I know she hates it when people worry about that kind of thing, because ever since she got sick she’s been all  _live every day like it’s your last_  and  _anyone could drop dead at any time so you really shouldn’t worry_ , but… after seeing her go through all of that, I can’t help but worry.”

Camila looks down at her girlfriend and presses a small kiss to her forehead. “I’m just relieved she’s okay.”

Lucy pulls out her phone and checks the time. “I can probably catch my last class. Are you going to stay until she wakes up?”

“Yeah,” Camila nods, “even if they try and kick me out.”

Lucy laughs. “As funny as it would be to watch you fight off a bunch of nurses, I’m going to go to my class. Let me know when she wakes up?”

“I will,” Camila assures her, and says her goodbyes as Lucy leaves the ward and disappears from view. She glances down at her sleeping girlfriend with a sigh. “Looks like it’s just you and me now, baby.”

She smiles a little, and pulls her chair closer, almost kicking over the IV next to Lauren’s bed and knocking her girlfriend’s prosthetic on the floor. She quickly apologises for the racket to the guy in the next bed, but he doesn’t acknowledge her as he flips through his magazine, so she shrugs and looks back to Lauren, taking her hand and squeezing it.

“You’re right, you know,” Camila comments, knowing she’d never  _ever_  tell Lauren she’s right about  _anything_  when she’s awake, because that girl’s ego really doesn’t need inflating any more. “About living every day like it’s your last. And I promise – even though you can’t hear me – I promise I’ll stop worrying about you, because sometimes I do, you know? Like, when I met your mom, and she was telling me all of those stats, and saying that if I didn’t think I could handle it if you got sick again, I should just leave.”

“I honestly… felt like maybe I  _should_.” Camila admits, not proud of having that thought. “I didn’t think I could handle it if you got sick again, because it could mean losing you. But  _leaving_  you and still suffer the pain of losing you? I didn’t know what to do, because leaving you out of fear that you’d leave me was a stupid solution.”

“And then I fell in love with you,” Camila sighs happily, “you pulled me in with your adorable smiles and your green eyes and your cooking skills and your stupid  _High School Musical_  obsession and made me love you, and somewhere along the way I figured that… that even if we only got a couple years, months, weeks, days,  _hours…_  it’d be worth the pain of losing you.”

“Because you’re  _right_ ,” Camila emphasises, “you  _should_  live every day like it’s your last, because nobody can know what’s around the corner. Maybe I’ll die in a plane crash, or you’ll do something stupid and end up dead, or maybe a nuke wipes us all out, but it doesn’t matter, because when the end comes, we won’t even really be aware of it. But what I  _will_  be aware of is the fact that I spent the time I got given loving someone as amazing as you, and I think that’s a pretty damn good way of spending it.”

She leans back in her chair, looking at the beautiful sleeping girl in front of her, when said girl opens those beautiful green eyes of her and sends her a sleepy grin. “I think you just wrote your damn vows there, Camz.”

Camila blushes, rubbing her thumb across Lauren’s knuckles comfortingly. “Hi. How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” Lauren yawns as if to emphasise this, “what happened? I don’t really remember much after getting in the ambulance.”

Despite the constant claims of badassery, Lauren looks pretty terrified behind her calm front. Camila can see it in her eyes. Sending her a small smile, she shrugs nonchalantly. “It was your appendix. They cut it out. Depending on how you’re feeling, you can probably be discharged later today.”

Camila sees the relief in her girlfriend’s eyes, but Lauren just hums. “I blame the chocolate.”

“I didn’t poison you, weirdo,” Camila jokingly denies, “and neither did chocolate. It did nothing wrong.”

Lauren shuffles to the right and pats the bed next to her. “Come here.”

Camila looks around at the nearby nurses. “I don’t think that’s allowed.”

“Oh, if they say anything, I’ll just argue that it’s good for my health to snuggle with my soulmate,” Lauren announces, grinning, and leaving a small strip of the left side of the bed for Camila to clamber onto. “Come on. That chair can’t be comfortable. You know, I think I’d actually be a little offended if you picked an uncomfortable chair over the comforts of snuggling with  _me_.”

Camila relents, and lays down on the bed next to Lauren. It’s a tight fit, and she’s pressed right up against Lauren’s left side, and since it’s her left, she at least has a little extra leg room below the knee. She takes her girlfriend’s hand and gives it a small squeeze, before giving her a look over and commenting, “you’re totally rocking that hospital gown.”

“Ugh, I know, right?” Lauren jokingly agrees. “I always upstage the other patients.”

“You upstage everyone else in general,” Camila easily replies, taking her girlfriend’s hand and tracing patterns across the pale skin. “You’re the definition of beauty.”

“Wow, cheesy, much?” Lauren teases her, sitting up to rest her head on Camila’s shoulder. She cringes a little as pain shoots through her side, and she pushes the bedsheets up and shifts in her hospital gown. She pulls it up and winces at the stitches on the bottom right side of her stomach. “That’s going to leave a scar.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t have any pain beforehand, you know?” Camila frowns down at the stitches, “Like, I thought the whole point of appendicitis was you had pains for a little while before.”

“I mean, I  _have_ ,” Lauren admits, shrugging, “I just thought they were exceptionally rough period cramps and then when it felt worse today, I thought they were chocolate related cramps.”

Camila just smiles. “But you’re okay. That’s what matters. Even if you’re dumb.”

“Actually, I have an academic scholarship  _and_  I had one in high school, too. That’s how my parents could afford to send me to Carrollton.” Lauren boasts, flashing her a proud smile. “Can you believe an uptight Catholic school produced me?  _And_  Lucy?”

Camila snorts. “Definitely not. I’m surprised you didn’t get kicked out for being too gay.”

“Oh, shut up,” Lauren laughs, bumping her knee against Camila’s, “Sometimes I think that school kind of… made me as repressed as I was. Because like I’ve told you, it didn’t even click in my head until I was pretty old. Looking back, it makes me laugh how many crushes I had on girls and didn’t even realise. Anyway, can we just leave? They already cut my appendix out. No more work to do. Later!”

Camila laughs. “I think you have to rest at least a little bit.”

“I can rest at your house. In your bed,” Lauren smirks, but Camila knows she’s joking. “Seriously. I hate hospitals. Can we leave? Where’d they put my leg? I bet they hid it. I bet they could sense with their weird doctor powers that I’d try to make a break for it. Guess I’ve just got to hop over to the window and swan dive out of it. If I hurt myself, at least I’m already  _at_  the hospital.”

“Your leg is right down here,” Camila rolls her eyes, “I knocked it over being the big klutz that you already know I am.”

“That’ll be five hundred dollars to cover any damages,” Lauren makes a  _fork it over_  gesture at her, “and… hm, maybe an extra million for all the wifi you’ve used at my house.”

Camila scoffs. “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m going to give you money.”

“Dumber than you look implies that you think I look dumb,” Lauren comments, fixing her with a pout, “I can’t believe you’d say that to your poor, sick girlfriend.”

“Bitch, they cut your appendix out, you’re fine,” Camila gives her a light shove. “I see an emergency operation hasn’t worn you out enough to stop you from being annoying.”

Lauren just hums, hooking her arm through Camila’s and keeping her close. “You love me, though. Your whole romantic speech when you thought I was asleep just  _proves_  it.”

Camila laughs. “Yeah, when exactly did you wake up?”

“While Lucy was saying she was going to class,” Lauren shrugs, “I was going to tell you I was awake, but then you started talking and I wanted to hear whatever cute things you had to say. Glad I did.”

Camila bites down on her bottom lip and shrugs. “Yeah, well. I really love you, okay? Deal with it.”

Lauren sends her that small, reserved smile, and presses a kiss to Camila’s cheek. “I love you too. Can you go ask a doctor if we’re okay to leave? It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with that-”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll go,” Camila says, getting up off the bed and leaning down to kiss Lauren’s forehead. “Be right back, baby.”

As she heads over to the nearest nurse, Camila thanks any powerful force she can think of that her girlfriend is okay, and reminds herself to listen to Lauren more often.

-

**23/09/21**

Camila grins at the woman in front of her, meeting bright green eyes with her own chocolate brown ones. “Hey. Careful, don’t spill your coffee on me. I don’t want this dress ruined.”

Lauren rolls her eyes as she parts from her father and comes to stand in front of Camila, but her smile doesn’t fade. If anything, it grows as she looks at Camila, with nothing but total adoration written across her face. “Camila, we’re standing at the  _altar_. Who the fuck drinks  _coffee_  at the altar?”

“Wow, I guess you don’t want the Starbucks that I picked up especially for the occasion. You know what, I can’t believe I’d marry someone so ignorant. Please don’t hit me with the door on my way out.” Camila retorts, reaching out and squeezing Lauren’s hand, before dropping her voice and murmuring, “Oh my god, not to sound like an idiot, but I’m actually panicking right now, not because I’m scared to marry you, obviously not, since you’re the love of my life, but  _what if I mess up my lines_?”

Lauren snorts, squeezing her hand reassuringly as the marriage officiant looks at them expectantly, along with both of their families. “You’ll be fine. Besides, you know I won’t care.”

“But  _they_  might,” Camila nods to their families, flashing them an awkward smile as the officiator announces that they’re going to get started. Looking at Lauren, who mouths  _breathe_ , Camila nods and tries to relax. Imagining that it’s just the two of them makes her less anxious, so she looks at Lauren and pretends that the officiator’s voice is just a recording from a speaker.

She doesn’t stumble through her words, and Lauren looks so proud of her, but when it comes to exchanging the rings, naturally, she drops it on the floor. A few members of Lauren’s family, like distant aunts and uncles, murmur when the ring falls out of Camila’s hand, and Camila is so nervous that she’s just gone and ruined their entire wedding, but when she looks back up at Lauren, she’s laughing to herself.

“I love you,” Lauren tells her, still laughing as Camila slides the ring onto her finger. “If it makes you feel any better, I tripped a little when I was walking up the aisle to you. Thankfully nobody noticed.”

“We’re both as bad as each other,” Camila murmurs, and even though she knows it’s premature, she presses a kiss to Lauren’s lips. “Thank you for agreeing to marry me.”

“ _Agree_  makes it sound like you begged,” Lauren looks down at Camila’s hand, admiring the ring on it. “In reality, I’ve been dropping hints for years that I wanted you to propose.”

“Well…” Camila smiles, “I guess there’s no better day to get married than the five-year anniversary of your clumsy ass spilling coffee all over me.”

Lauren just grins. “Oh, shut up and marry me, you idiot.”

Camila smiles. “Gladly.”


End file.
